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Hey all, Work has been pretty crazy lately, and this is looking to be my busiest week yet. I haven't really had time to do the prep I need to do for the upcoming encounters. I'm probably going to have to put this on hold for a week or two. I'll PM you guys when I've got things back on track.
@Rhane: You detect no apparent deception on his part.
@Glee This exploration has thus far proven much less exciting than you had anticipated. The door contains no apparent traps or magical wards, and it opens easily and quietly. On the other side, you see the roof of the keep. Two guards sit on the battlements, their backs to you, watching the crowd pass by below. They are armed with crossbows, but they seem only mildly interested in the mundane goings on, and their weapons are set to the side.
@The Dining Hall "Camps?!" Blackwood exclaims, "HA! The Red Fist has taken over the Northern provinces altogether. Grilakh controls fortresses, not camps." Mayor Boughart interjects, with a deep laugh, "Good luck luck to you if you're heading north! I can't imagine what you seek that could be worth venturing into those blighted wastes. Did you find a map to the Tower or something?" The lord and lady have a chuckle at that, though Blackwood remains more serious. He stands, with a quick bow, "Well then, I believe you owe our hosts some entertaining stories. They are... fine hosts, and I'm sure you will find their food and company to be most leisurely. If there are no further questions, I should really be supervising the movement of the refugees over the bridge. Sir Knight, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name, see me after your meal and I will provide you with copies of the most reliable maps my scouts have provided."
@Glee You make your way to the top of the stairs, eventually finding a small ladder which leads to wooden hatchway directly above. You see no guards along the way, and the keep appears to have four above ground floors and at least one below ground floor from your observations. This confirms what you saw from the outside. There could be a tiny fifth floor area not visible from the ground, but from what you've seen the hatch before you leads to the roof.
@The dining hall:
Blackwood seems momentarily hesitant, but an admonishing glance from lady Boughart loosens his tongue. "Yes... well, the north is a dangerous place. You've got about a week's travel in relative safety, at least in that the bandits are humans and will usually be satisfied with simply taking your gold." He takes a small sip of his wine, before continuing, "The village of Whitehill represents the last bastion of humanity before you reach the frontier. The Empire used to extend much further, of course, but since the fall the orcs have been emboldened." "There were a few, small, isolated clans of orcs and goblins during the reign of the emperors," Blackwood explains, his enthusiasm for history seeming to melt away his wary demeanor, "Now, the Red Fist clan has expanded, usurping the other orc clans, and conquering the goblin tribes and using them as footsoldiers to conquer those human settlements in the Northern provinces. Last I heard, they're led by an orc called Grilakh, who is said to be a masterful tactician in addition to the savage brutality common to his race."
@Glee: You hear nothing at either door. You ascend the stairs. A quick glance down reveals nothing in that direction. The hall is considerably brighter than you expected, with regular if small windows as you move up the round structure of the keep. You come to a flat area in the stairwell and a closed door leading to the second floor rooms. The stairway continues up.
@The dining hall: After gladly accepting Rhane's toast, your noble hosts down their wine and quickly refill their glasses, as well as yours. Sheriff Blackwood attempts some protest, but Lady Boughart fills his cup regardless. He returns to his seat, raising his glass when appropriate, though keeping a suspicious eye on Irina. Finally they seem to notice the giant, bipedal lizard among you and turn attentively to T'zay. "And where do you come from, my friend?" Lord Boughart inquires, stepping close to the reptile, "I can't say I've seen your like around these parts. I've heard tales of lizardmen, and I can't say they were pleasant!" he laughs heartily at that. His wife rolls her eyes. "Dear, you're being rude." She addresses T'zay, "I apologize for my husband. He can be... blunt at times." she speaks to T'zay, but her tone is clearly aimed at her husband, "We do not judge our guests based on rumors and superstition. You are quite welcome here."
@Glee: You slink out of main hall, up a short staircase which leads to hall approximately 20 feet long. On either side are closed wooden doors. At the end of the hall you see a window with panels of etched glass in an iron frame. Also at the end of the hall is a narrow stairway leading up to the right, and down to left. You see nothing particularly suspicious. The walls are lined with old but well maintained tapestries, and floor is covered with a long, fine carpet which helps to muffle your footsteps.
DM Rolls:
Sheriff Blackwood perception As Glee slinks away, the lord and lady gladly join in a toast.
Seemingly oblivious to Sir Blackwood's objections, Mayor Boughart turns back to your group, "Allow me to introduce my wife, lady Marin Boughart!" The lady curtsies. "It is a great pleasure to meet all of you, of course! I'm assuming we have you to thank for getting things moving with those poor refugees?" Without waiting for an answer, she brushes a servant aside and pours her own glass of wine, "Come now, tell me, how did you manage it? That's quite a feat of management!" Marin looks many years younger than her husband, but given her Elven blood, it's difficult to estimate her true age. Blackwood seems perturbed, looking over your group suspiciously "My lady, I--" Lady Marin raises a finger, silencing him, "Pssht! I see that hunter's gaze in your eye, Aaron, and I won't have you impugn our guests' reputations. Let them indulge in some wine and sully their own character, would you?"
DM rolls (no peeking):
Irina sleight of hand (+2 dex, +2 circumstance) Sir Blackwood perception Sir Blackwood sense motive v Rhane Glee perception v Irina
T'zay, Glee, and Mayve:
You clearly see Irina palming the smoke pellet, and apparently so does Sir Blackwood. As you all take your seats, Sir Blackwood seems distracted by Rhane's question. "What? Yes, of course," he answers. "My lord!" Blackwood says in an authoritative tone, standing up, "There's--" Mayor Boughart complete ignores Blackwood, rising from his seat as well, and bows melodramatically, "My lady!" From the far end of the room a half-elven woman enters, adorned in fine silks and a fortune in jewels. "My lord!" she declares in a similarly embellished tone as he takes her hand and gently kisses it.
Sorry for the delay, folks. I was stalling for a new player and then had to go out of town for a couple days for work. I promise an update tomorrow.
Lord Boughart speaks with the servants, asking for wine, and more food to be prepared, while you talk amongst yourselves. He turns back as you finish and his face lights up, "My dear guests, let me introduce you to Sir Blackwood. He's a stick in the mud, but he keeps us all honest!" You see the eponymous knight stride in from behind you, wearing a clean, finely crafted grey breastplate over a formal tunic, adorned with a white cape. He pauses awkwardly to offer a curt bow before striding past you toward the mayor. The knight speaks to the mayor in hushed tones. Perception DC20:
"I should be outside, leading the men, my lord," the knight says in a respectful, but obviously annoyed tone, "There are ten thousand people marching through the village right now." The mayor scoffs, "You're the one who's always talking about high standard he sets for his men, loyalty, duty, et cetera. Surely you trust them to guide some people over a bridge?" "My lord, it's somewhat more complicated--"
"Nonsense," the mayor laughs, "Sit down, enjoy a meal and get to know our guests, who we owe thanks for solving this problem with the... um... migratory folk? No matter. We owe these guests our thanks." The mayor waves you further into the dining hall, "Come, have a glass of wine! Dinner will be ready soon. Sir Blackwood maintains regular contact with scouts that patrol the northern frontier, and he can provide you with any information you need!"
T'zay Sshi'aah: Yes. In addition to the stench of 10,000 humans, the unusual, shifting scent in the air has persisted since last night.
Irina Moretskya: Scree flies away, apparently unnoticed and begins to patrol. You sense no alarm or danger.
"Oh yes," the mayor replies, "We had heard the horror stories of Plaeton. From the first groups who passed through, it sounded as though the whole city was coming down!" The two guards eye you somewhat warily, but the mayor seems to have totally dropped his guard. He deftly takes Glee by the arm and escorts your group to the keep, chatting along the way. "I would hear these tales of daring and bravery from you and your friends, my lovely lady. If would do me the honor of telling them! And in return, I will tell you what I know of the lands to the North!" You enter a small foyer, where the lord's manservant stands ready to take your cloaks. The keep is small, and old, but the foyer is lavishly decorated in fine carpets and polished sconces. Another servant pushes open a set of thick double doors, revealing the mayor's main hall, which again is adorned with the finest tapestries, the tables set with silver plates. It is a stark contrast to what you're accustomed to, and the mayor clearly likes to live in style. There are two large, empty tables before you, with a fancier table set with several place settings closer to the far side of the room. This time of year, no fire is necessary, and the massive fireplace to your left is dark. The mayor gestures to two servants, "Places please! Places for our guests. That's five place settings." Perception DC15: You notice that Sevram seems to have disappeared, in fact, you can't remember seeing him since you entered the crowd to approach the village gate.
Lord Boughhart bows in return, "HAHAHA! You are a lady of good spirits I see. No, not cute little birds, I'm afraid. Strange monsters. Creatures of fire, demonic horrors. Many were seen by night, and it was difficult to make them out. The day has been, thankfully, more serene." "The refugees started showing up last night, and have been increasing throughout the day. We let the first few hundred through, of course. It is not my policy to deny passage across the bridge, but when thousands of terrified, screaming souls have formed a mob at your gate it creates... logistical problems." "Now come, nothing improves the taste of a meal like interesting guests to share it. The cooks are preparing dinner now, I'll tell them to increase the portions to accommodate you. In the mean time, we can chat and enjoy glass or six of wine." He gestures for you to follow as he and his two guards head toward a small keep a short distance away.
DM rolls:
The mayor nods at Irina and Mayve, he seems mildly uncomfortable with Irina's feigned subtlety, but shrugs it off. "Surely you've seen the terrifying sights yourself? Fire? Lightning? Strange creatures taking flight?" "Well, it's no matter at the moment. You've done me a great service helping to take care of this little problem with the crowds, and the least I can do in return is offer you meal. Will you join me for dinner?" He pauses and laughs heartily, slapping his ample belly. "And here I've failed to introduce myself! Lord Brendil Boughhart, mayor of Green's Crossing, at your service."
Your group passes into the village, which seems relatively untouched by the tragedy that seems to have befallen your material plane, though the people seem nervous as the crowd pass through and over the great stone bridge. As you make your way, two guard lead a plump man in fine furs over and call you aside. "So I hear I have you folks to thank for resolving this little impasse?" the man announces in with a deep, bold laugh, "I should hire you on to join the guards!" He lowers his voice a bit, though he speaks in a good-humored tone, "Then again, I'm not sure how long the guards will do any good, what with the sights I've been seeing in the skies. What can a group of warriors from Plaeton tell us of these strange happenings, hmm?"
haha You guys could probably take em. ;)
The man's eyes light up as he sees the coin Mayve has handed him. "W-wow! Thank you, m'lady!" he bows profusely to her before returning to his duties with renewed vigor.
With the renewed effort, the crowd near the gate begins to fall into line, assuming as much order as can be expected from such a massive group. It takes a few minutes for ordered lines to form, but eventually the gates slowly open, the village guards behind them seem ready to close them as quickly as possible if anything goes wrong. "MOVE STRAIGHT ACROSS THE BRIDGE!" one of the guards near the door yells, as the groups behind making their way in, "DO NOT STOP! YOU CAN'T STAY HERE! PASS THROUGH! MOVE STRAIGHT ACROSS THE BRIDGE!"
Rhane's dedicated experience with his mount makes it a simple matter to calm the creature, and Misha, being the highly trained war horse she is, easily stills her nerves at his subtle urging. Irina has a little more trouble, but manages to make her way to gate without incident. The guard on the wall nods, and he seems to think Mayve's plan is sound. No plan survives contact with the enemy however, and the situation on the ground is less than ideal. The burly refugee makes some effort to begin organizing the crowd, but only a few people seem to take heed. You're not sure whether because they don't understand what is going on or are simply too consumed with the mob mentality of beating down the door, but the crowd seems to fill in around anyone who is cooperating.
Ignore this, needed a die roller. Perfectly alright, but just out of curiosity what did you need all those 1d20+120s for?
So I see that Sevram hasn't posted in a month. I didn't realize it had been that long. Unfortunately, I suppose it's safe to say he's gone. At least he didn't run off with one of those bracelets. On the bright side, I have a queue of new players waiting for a chance to jump in, and this is as good a time as any to introduce someone.
With a little coaxing, Mayve settles her horse, who seems to have shed any apprehension about the crowd and now follows calmly.
Glee's horse remains somewhat skittish, occasionally snorting and making a jerking step, but the animal follows without too much protest. The crowd seems swayed by her, and several of the refugees begin aiding you in parting the crowd, making your way up to the gate much easier. DM rolls:
The guard seems to hear Mayve clearly, even over the noise of the crowd. He cups his hands over his mouth and shouts down at you, pointing to the south. It's difficult to make him out over the din of the gathered masses. Mayve & Glee - Perception DC15: "Like I've been tellin' em, we can't keep ten thousand people here! Not enough food! Not enough guards! Follow the river south, there's a bridge only a few days' ride!"
A few people recognize Mayve's authority and attempt to get out of the way, but the crowd quickly thickens to the point where it becomes a slow struggle to push forward. The crowd fills in behind you as you advance, and your horses are starting to become nervous from the throng of people pushing against them from all sides. Mayve and anyone who is following her:
Anyone who made the perception check in my previous post: Point of clarification, as I think I was unclear: The armored man is standing on battlements near the gate, shouting down at the crowd. You cannot hear what he is sayings specifically at this distance over the noise of the crowd, but it's safe to assume it's something about not letting them in.
Soo... what happened to Sevram? I haven't seen him post in ages. Yeah, I hope he's still playing.
The whole city is nearly as empty as the square you started in, though you occasionally see stragglers frantically loading belongings into carts or trying to pack just one more thing onto the back of an already burdened horse or mule. A few just wander. None seem capable of comprehending the gravity of their situation. As you pass through the East Gate, you encounter groups of refugees on foot, some leading pack animals, which begin spaced widely on the road, but become large crowds and caravans the further you get from the city. Most of the farm fields on the outskirts of the city have been looted, the vegetables uprooted, the fields trampled, and the animal pens smashed down. Even if only a small portion of the tens of thousands fleeing the city were looters, it appears to have been enough. The strange flashes in the sky continue throughout the day, and you still feel the tremors, though they seem less severe as you get further from Plaeton. T'zay:
There is a strange scent in the air, nothing you can place, and seems to be everywhere. It seems sweet at times, bitter at others, sometimes even vile and sulfurous, but yet still the same scent in a way that eludes your explanation. The Imperial Road follows the river on the southern side, and as you progress you notice more and more refugees have set up makeshift camps along the banks. In a few places, you see scraps and wreckage where an unknown calamity has befallen a group. The camps get larger along with the traveling crowds until you finally reach a stand still. Thousands of people are gathered before the high, stone walls the of the village of Green's Crossing, built around an ancient, stone bridge, and the only river crossing for miles. From atop your mounts you can clearly see that the city gates are closed as frantic refugees beat against them trying to seek passage. Knowledge (Nature, Geography or Local) DC20:
You know that the river here is too deep, wide, and fast for crossing. From here it heads south, and it will take at least several days of travel before you find an unwalled bridge or place safe to ford the river. Perception DC25: You see a man in armor standing near the gate house on this side, apparently trying to warn off the refugees beating at the gate.
Knowledge (Local) DC 10: Given what you can see of the devastation and your knowledge of the city, the easiest way out of the city is likely to be through the east gate. From there you'd be able to make your way east on the Imperial road. There is a major fork leading north, toward the tower, less than a day's ride from east gate.
Sleep is hard coming for all of you, as the tremors continue through the night, occasionally interrupted by distant screams or cracks of lightning, but sleep eventually comes, and you manage to get a night's rest. Dawn finds the city barren and empty. The gulls that normally circle overhead are nowhere to be seen, and bustle of activity associated with a city this size is completely absent. With the mounts that Rhane collected from the stable, there are enough horses for each of you.
"Oh, you may find these helpful indeed!" the old wizard says, pulling three scrolls from the chest and handing them over to you.
Lamere shakes his head, "I'm afraid not. I know of know no one who has ever successfully reached the tower, or anything that might reliably help you to do so, save that bracelet." "I would gladly offer you anything I have, if I had anything to offer, but the enchanted artifacts maintained by the academy for study or safe keeping have been lost in the collapse, and I have nothing in my immediate possession that you would find useful on such a quest." He rises from his chair and goes to rummage through an old chest in the corner of room, "Then again, there might be a stray spell scroll or two around here, let me check..."
Master Lamere paces as talk, on the opposite side of the room from Mayve, and pauses long in thought before answering you. "Little is known of the Tower. It was old when the Elves were still roaming the forests in furs, hunting with wood and stone. It can be seen from afar, indeed, we can see it here in Plaeton, though even mighty mountains before it are little more than specks on the horizon. All this while its true location is obscured by the most powerful magic." He takes a long drag on his pipe, exhaling grey-blue smoke. "These... chronomancers. There were rumors of a sect of wizards who had mastered knowledge of causality, the true nature of time itself, for whom the past and the future became no different than the present. They were said to have created the tower as a focus for their magic, to use to study the future and the past." "If this is true, then perhaps the Tower has always existed, at least from our point of view. The chronomancers likely see things very differently." He seems older than his years suddenly, as the stresses of the day seem to catch up to him all at one. Slowly sinking into a leather chair, he cups his face in his hands and rubs his temples. He sighs, and finally continues. "This situation is dire. I didn't know how to tell the others, but... this world is coming apart. The vast gulfs that separate the planes are disappearing. I can see it. Its effects ripple through the very foundations of magic, and I know of no way to stop it. If those bracelets truly will allow you to find the tower and harness its power, then you must. You must discover what caused this and undo it at any cost!" "We have no other hope."
@Mayve Master Lamere is grateful for your assistance, and you manage to recover a few more survivors trapped in the ruins over the course of the day. @T'zay & Irina Your presence greatly accelerates the healing of the survivors. Some members of the academy are skilled herbalists and knowledgeable in the ways of healing, but they are all wizards, or training to be, and their healing skills are mundane in nature and no comparison to yours. Everyone The level of tension is apparent throughout the day, as tremors, large and small, continue to shake the academy grounds, showing the true fragility of the facility with widening cracks and falling stones. The occasional crack of thunder, collapsing building, or sudden flying gout of flame visible through the windows isn't helping ease the mood. All of the survivors are desperate for an explanation, which Master Lamere and the senior instructors struggle to provide, but their explanations are hollow and their conversations frequently devolve into shouting matches as they too seem to be losing composure.
Much of the Academy is still intact, though the great libraries and the passages to the lower levels where the most powerful and valuable artifacts are stored have been blocked by tons of rubble. As you enter, you find Master Lamere directing the survivors to move the many wounded into a nearby dormitory for medical attention. There are approximately two dozen apprentices and wizards carrying or assisting the wounded. The dormitories, kitchens and other living quarters are to your left, and apart from a covering of dust and some fallen decorations they look to be accessible. The pathway to the right is blocked.
Mayve's water elemental dutifully douses those of you who are burning, glad to rid you of the abhorrent element which renders all things so dry. The group of you stand in the ruins of the square, the lava flow sputtering to a halt. You're barely able to keep your feet as you feel a massive tremor, and you hear a slow, grinding crash as one of the city's ancient towers collapses several blocks away, sending a cloud of thick dust up over the buildings, though not much makes it way into the square. Further in the distance, swirls of clouds and lightning and streaks of fire seem to appear out of nowhere in a clear sky, and disappear just as quickly.
The elemental's stony skin easily deflects Glee's swords, sending tiny sparks flying.
Sevram is up!
DM rolls:
1-2 attacks Rhane, 3 attacks Glee. There is a thunderous clang as the elemental bashes the plate steel of Rhane's armor twice in quick succession.
Irina's magic seems to take hold on the creature, slowing its attacks, however it seems to shake off the effects of Mayve's wand. Rhane's attacks batter the creature, leaving it clearly wounded. Hot magma seeps through cracks in its rocky flesh, and it struggles to stay in the fight.
Thanks for the update. Will anyone else be unavailable? This combat should over shortly, and I don't want to get too far ahead of Rhane, but I'm off today until Monday, so I'll try to keep things going if people are going be around to post.
Sevram's attacks tear huge chunks of molten rock away from the elemental. It staggers momentarily, rearing back for another swing, then shakes, solidifies, and crumbles into gravel and rocks before your eyes.
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