![]()
![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Jake:
1d20 ⇒ 131d20 ⇒ 16
Jake is not responding to PMs, so we'll find out what happened to her later. The group follows the road out of the valley. The mountains rise high and the way is steep, through dense pine forest. The fog muffles and distorts sound, and occasionally you catch a snatch of song, as if the elf was walking beside you. A moment later, it is gone, and once again the only sounds are those that you make. After almost two hour's walking, climbing steadily higher, you emerge above the mist. Below you, you can see the valley under a grey blanket of fog. The belltower of the church is a lone marker of the village, and atop the thousand foot high stone column that rises behind it, you see the spires of Ravenloft in the distance. Immediately before you is a thousand foot deep gorge, with an ancient stone bridge spanning it. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() @ Donatello (and all ranged attackers) Assume you recover half of your misses. As Vallen channels, the wounds heal on two of the fallen elves. The one shot by his own people is dead. The survivors open their bright eyes and look around them, assessing their situation. They sit up, but make no move to flee. "আমাদের মুক্তি আপনার দাস বলুন," one of them says to Sorala. A moment later Rhyfelwr impales him with his glaive. "Peidiwch â siarad â nhw. Byddant yn eich plygu gyda'u celwyddau," he says. The other elf looks on with a knowing smile. NW elvish:
Tell your slaves to release us. NW goblin: Do not speak to them. They will bend you with their lies. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (20) - 2 = 18
The huge elf looks nervous as Ysanne cackles at him and the party surrounds him, but as Vada's attempt to stare him down, he seems to take heart. He spins his staff, keeping it between himself and the party. For a moment, it looks as though he might surrender, but at that moment, an arrow strikes him in the back, and he falls. The furthest of the four surviving elves shot him down, and with the others, continues to flee. The three trailing him hiss in pain as Septimus channels, but they do not slow down. If anyone wants to get a shot off or chase them, feel free. Otherwise we'll call the combat closed. Meanwhile... The explorers are cheerfully wandering around in the woods, oblivious to the excitement in camp. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() The gypsies watch as the party discusses its options. They smirk as Jake walks off, alone, taking the path further into the mountains as she leaves the camp. Anhur throws his bones and the Flame flickers this way and that, warning him that the action suggested will bring both weal and woe. The elf is out of sight by the time he has finished his augury, and the gypsies have started a new song. The language is strange, but there is a lighthearted beat. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Vallen, it's difficult terrain, so 40' is actually a quadruple move. I don't know where you started though, so I'm not sure if your move on the map reflects that. 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Rhyfelwr and the elf trade blows without doing any harm. Again. And Vada stands by, admiring Sandra's singing voice, which is quite spectacular. "ਸੂਪ, ਇਸ ਨੂੰ ਰਾਤ ਦੇ ਖਾਣੇ ਦੇ ਲਈ ਹੈ ਕਿ ਕੀ ਹੈ," the elf snarls at Sorala. NW Elf: Bite me. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Jake:
The way the old woman winked at you as you left has left you feeling decidedly unsettled. Ireena listens to your planning, her hand absent-mindedly going to touch the mark on her neck. "The castle is probably another three hour's walk from here," she says. She looks up at the castle perched on the high finger of rock, far above. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Following my own rules, that 21 Linguistics roll means that Sorala can speak "broken" NW elvish. I imagine it's a bit like someone who speaks Italian trying to speak Spanish. Joe Schmoe (or Giuseppe Schmoe, perhaps) is going to be able to figure out a few things, but someone who has studied the way languages evolve will be able to make some pretty big leaps, and be right a lot of the time. It's her call whether she wants to include "surrender" in her vocabulary. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Spoiler:
1d20 ⇒ 6
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (15) - 1 = 14 1d100 ⇒ 97 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5 Donatello wings one of the fleeing elves, and Sorala and Ysanne both curse the last remaining big elf. Ysanne, he failed his save against Sorala's curse, so you may change your action if you like, as the -2 to saves won't stack. Rhyfelwr steps closer to the elf that is still fighting and they trade blows, each missing the other. Sandra sings, and moves up to take the staff of one of the fallen elves. Players up ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Lord, you guys are quick. 1d20 ⇒ 10
As Septimus moves around the battlefield, a buzzing sound can be heard. The elf fighting Rhyfelwr drops his staff, clutches his throat, and falls to the ground. The other waves his hands as what looks like wasp's stings blister his flesh. Vallen, Vada, Sorala: feel free to adjust your action. Vallen would have to move to target the other big elf, but he can. Vada will need to move or suffer a range penalty, but he can. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() The woman shuffles her deck of cards and then sits at the table, pushing the crystal ball aside. She draws a card from the top of the deck and looks at it for a moment before laying down the three of swords. "This card is a symbol of great power. It tells of a powerful force for good and protection against the forces of darkness," she says. "It is in a place of tranquility, a harbor for the mighty and powerful. It is in a place of wisdom, warmth, and despair. Great secrets are there. The sword sustains your strength here, but holds you from your victory, taking more time than it otherwise would." Wintermoon:
You believe that she is telling you what the cards tell her. She believes she has a gift and to lie about what she sees would betray that gift. She draws a second card and winces, laying the ace of wands net to the first card quickly, as though she wanted it out of her hands. "This card tells of history. Knowledge of the ancient may help you understand a foe," she says, frowning. "This is a very bad sign. This is in the very heart of darkness: his home, his source. It is his center and his life. It is the one place to which he must return. The wand is a dark shadow of evil cast over that place. You fight under its influence here." She seems almost hesitant to continue, but she draws a third card, closing her eyes to contemplate it, her lips moving as though she were tasting a fine wine. She lays the king of cups beside the first two cards. "This is the object of your search! Ah! I see darkness and evil behind this card! It is a powerful man whose enemy is light and whose powers are beyond mortality!" she cackles again. "A king’s throne is the place to find him. There is a very good influence there. If you are there, the powers of the cup will aid you." She draws again, crossing the last card with the seven of pentacles, and she smiles as she studies it. "This card is good for you. It is a card of power and strength, the victor’s card. It tells of a weapon of light, a weapon with a vengeance." She grins, with a gleam in her eye. "You may find it amid the ruins of a place of supplication. The Pentacle blesses your skill there, but bodes poorly for your protection." She holds her hand over the deck for several seconds before she draws the last card. She lays it face down between the two crosses. "And here is the root card. Out of darkness and chaos, this card finds the reason and foundation for that darkness and chaos. This card shows the purpose of all things. It is the key to life and death and else beyond." She shakes her head, dismissing a troubling thought, and then turns the card over. The ace of swords. She nods as she looks at it, and her voice is soft and respectful as she speaks. "Here is a high and noble card. One of you carries a weapon that is stronger than any other against the evil in this land. Only one part is missing from this weapon. That part is found in the evil one's lair" She cackles then, and sweeps up her cards into one hand as the other extends to you, palm up. "Silver to keep your fortunes true, or suffer what end the fates decree." ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() dice:
y: 1d20 ⇒ 19 s: 1d20 ⇒ 18 At least all their good rolls are going to their will saves? 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18 1d100 ⇒ 20 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17 1d4 ⇒ 1 Vallen is difficult terrain! Crossbow bolts fly everywhere, thunking into trees and occasionally coming within spitting distance of a target. Vada falls back. As Ysanne cackles and curses, the big elf takes a swing at her. A swing that should have cracked her skull, but that got tangled in the branches instead. The other big elf spars with Rhyfelwr, neither of them hitting the other. Sandra Thayer, still singing, moves up and throws her only weapon, a dagger, at the big elf fighting Rhyfelwr, grazing him. The four remaining archers drop from their perches in the trees and begin to retreat through the forest. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Spoiler:
1d20 ⇒ 5
1d20 ⇒ 17 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 1d20 ⇒ 4 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9 The elf in the tree is shocked by the ghost of the half-orc, but the large one seems less afraid of the white-haired witch as she circles around. He swings at Rhyfelwr, his staff slamming viciously into the hobgoblin's side, as his fellow moves to engage Ysanne. The other's arrows fly harmlessly. Players up ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() After a song, the man who delivered the letter leads you to Madame Eva's wagon. He holds the door open for you, and you are able to squeeze inside. Within, all is dimly illuminated in pools of red light. A small, low table stands across from the doorway, covered in a black velvet cloth. Glints of light seem to flash from a crystal ball on the table as a hunched figure peers into its depths. She speaks. Her voice crackles like dry weeds. Her tone soars and falls like the wind outside. "At last you have arrived!" Her sudden cackling laughter bursts like mad lightning from her withered lips. She shuffles a deck of cards and looks at you, one by one. "Morgan who has looked beyond. Wintermoon, friend of the spirits. Jocelyn of the night and day. Anhur, seeker of the Sacred Flame. Cerin, a good son. I am Eva. Have you come to learn your fortune?" ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() I think there is a misunderstanding, Ysanne, and I certainly apologize if I've made a mistake. The range of the evil eye is 30' as far as I know, and you've ended each of your turns more than 30' out from the big ones the whole time. They've carefully stayed 30' away from you, because they're scared of your little friend and they've seen you throwing hexes around. It would seem that witches are not unknown in these lands. You might be thinking that their line pivoted, so the one that started furthest west moved SE diagonally across your range? But he couldn't have moved that far through difficult terrain. In fact the line slid. He moved due east, and then south, by the time you moved north to where you are, he was in squares J&K 7&8. You've never been within 30' of any of the big elves. You have evil eyed two of the elves, the first sniper (currently at L11) who made his save and shrugged the effect off after a round, and the one currently at M-14 who is taking -2 to attacks. To be honest, I debated about letting you evil eye him, as you were out of range after Bebop trampled the other two, and you said you were targeting surviving foes. But you started the round in range and I thought I'd let you throw the hex before Bebop moved, in your not at all misplaced confidence that he'd squash the two he squashed. Since that round, you readied an evil eye to throw at any elf that moved within range (none did) and cackled. If you misunderstood the map, we can retcon and put you 10' to the east of where you are and have one of the bigguns save against your hex. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Donatello - everyone in green has partial cover (+ to AC, effectively) and the concealment. The big trees provide full cover, but anyway.... Waiting on witches. Donatello's bolt flies true. Though the distance robs it of much of its force, it bites flesh and draws an angry yelp from the elf. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Yeah, Vallen, your whole round was legit, so I didn't need to comment. Vada's was so provocative, I wanted to make sure he stood by his play. 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13 As Vada steps up, the elf whacks him in the face with his quarterstaff. Painfully. He then yowls in agony as Vada's mace catches him on the hip, bone crunching. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() "Perhaps I am mistaken," the priest says to Morgan. 1d4 ⇒ 1 He looks at Anhur for a long moment, and then speaks to Morgan, but loudly enough for all to hear. "The vampire is a powerful foe, and legends tell of men who have fallen under his influence and allowed him to slaughter their family without lifting a finger to stop him. If one of your allies should fall under his power, you would be advised to have care. The vampire will utilize any advantage he can find."[/ooc] This scene can be continued in spoilers if need be. [b]11am, seven hours until sunset. Ireena looks into the churchyard and sees her brother hard at work, filling in the grave. "I will keep him safe here," Father Donavich says. "The gypsies are camped a few miles outside of town, and you will not want the sun to go down while you are in the woods." The young woman takes you to the road that leads out of town to the southwest. A quarter mile after you leave the last buildings behind, a bridge crosses a river that flows as clear as a blue winter sky through the valley. Another hour's walk brings you to a fork in the road. "That way leads up into the mountains," Ireena says, pointing to the lefthand fork. "And to his castle." She then leads you to the right. This is even less of a road than the one you came in, just a wagon track through the trees, following the banks of the river until you reach the gypsies' camp. The forest opens up to a clearing where dry, brittle grass rustles in the biting wind. On the far side of the clearing are several colorful wagons by the banks of a pool. The mournful strains of an accordion mix with the moaning of the wind. Several brightly clad figures surround a large, roaring fire, singing a mournful song. The man who delivered the letter that brought you here is among them. He gives you a wry smile and a welcoming bow. "It was fated that you would visit this camp," he says. "Madame Eva foretold your coming. Come, join your voices to ours." ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Spoiler:
1d20 ⇒ 7
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 181d100 ⇒ 68 1d8 ⇒ 7
The giant elf nearest Sorala is distracted by the ghostly figure of a half-orc that seems to swarm around his head. For 6 rounds. Vallen's blast of acid sizzles into the trunk of the tree his target is clinging to. Donatello sends another crossbow bolt soaring into the trees, but at this distance, it seems he can't make contact. Ysanne cackles, making everyone feel creepy. Septimus moves to stand beside her. Three of the archers launch another volley at Ysanne, one of them hitting her square 7 pts damage while the closest to Vallen aims at the dwarf and impales the ground between his feet. As the giant elves move down to attack and keep their defensive line, Rhyfelwr figures out how to properly swing the glaive AoO in close quarters, badly wounding the one he attacked previously. They attack him but miss badly, and he finishes off the first with another slice. Sandra continues to sing, moving to keep Rhyfelwr between her and the giant elves. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Sorry Ysanne, I probably could have phrased that better. None of them came within range, so none of them got evil-eyed. I was mostly commenting on the astoundingly bad rolls, not so much on their supernatural resistance to the evil eye, as they have no such resistance. Luckily, Donatello seems to be using the same cursed dice. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Ireena beckons to distant Jake, inviting her to come inside as her brother will be occupied with filling in the grave for quite some time. The priest listens to Morgan's description of the old man and frowns. "The man you describe is the devil himself, Strahd Von Zarovich," he says softly, looking suspiciously at the warlock. Then he shakes his head and turns to Ireena. "You know the way to the gypsy camp, don't you?" "Yes, father," she says. "I will show them the way." He nods, and speaks a blessing over you. Unless any of you have other business to conduct in the village, I'll get us to the gypsy camp tomorrow. Holidays are making things a little hectic around here. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Spoiler:
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 1d100 ⇒ 66 1d8 ⇒ 1
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14 1d100 ⇒ 64 1d8 ⇒ 4 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12 1d100 ⇒ 10 1d8 ⇒ 3 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8 1d100 ⇒ 61 1d8 ⇒ 2 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4 ] The elves in the trees all fire at the woman on the rampaging beast. Though her evil eye hasn't affected any of them, they seem unable to hit her. The tall elves move to form a defensive line between the archers and the beast. Donatello's bolt flies wide, but Sorala's spell takes effect, and much to his surprise, Rhyfelwr grows in size to match the elves on the ground. Laughing, he moves closer to the elf and swings, but the glaive gets caught in the branches of a tree. Sandra Thayer draws her dagger and begins to sing, inspiring everyone with courage. +1 attack, damage, saves v fear ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Hall's Balls, I swear I put Vallen on the map. Now he's there, approximately where he should be after his turn this round. If you guys can't move yourselves on the map, please alert Vallen, who is the keeper of the keys. FYI @ Ysanne mostly: A quick reread of Charm Person reminds me that "Any act by you or your apparent allies that threatens the charmed person breaks the spell." Since (despite your allies disappointing damage rolls) crossbow fire is threatening, the charm is broken. Otherwise, the spell was working fine, though he couldn't understand what you were saying to him. 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
As the bison tramples over the two elves on the left flank, leaving bloody pulp in its wake, the three at the back rank continue muttering. If there was any doubt as to the nature of the spells they are casting, it vanishes as they suddenly grow as tall as ogres. Sorala's spell causes her target to wince, but otherwise he seems to be unaffected. ਗੱਲ-ਬਾਤ ਦੇ ਸ਼ਬਦ ਨੂੰ ਸਫੈਦ ਵਾਲ ਗੱਲ ਇਹ ਹੈ ਕਿ ਸ਼ੋਰ ਦਾ ਕਹਿਣਾ ਹੈ!" the elf at L8 shouts to the others. Sorala:
something about white hair The other elves decide the ground is not a safe place to be, and retreat into the trees. The two that were in the clearing run to the right and start to scramble up, and the two that were already in the trees climb up and draw their bows. All but the 3 Cs are now 10' up in the trees. Players are up. Please alert me if I need to move you. Donatello, you can see enough. Just the standard 20% miss chance. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() So danm lazy, I'm going to use the same map as the last fight, so there :P. All difficult terrain. The Beige is low scrub.
The green is also light undergrowth, but also contain trees: A creature standing in the same square as a tree gains partial cover, which grants a +2 bonus to Armor Class and a +1 bonus on Reflex saves. The presence of a tree doesn't otherwise affect a creature's fighting space, because it's assumed that the creature is using the tree to its advantage when it can. The trunk of a typical tree has AC 4, hardness 5, and 150 hp. A DC 15 Climb check is sufficient to climb a tree. The @s are massive trees: These trees take up an entire square and provide cover to anyone behind them. They have AC 3, hardness 5, and 600 hp. Like their smaller counterparts, it takes a DC 15 Climb check to climb them. The Bs are Bebop.
![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Septimus fires at the sniper and the bolt scratches the skin, drawing blood as it flies past. Donatello's bolt thuds into a tree at the forest's edge. The sniper looks up at Ysanne, shaking his head, more in confusion than refusal. He draws and fires, this time at Septimus. More arrows fly out of the trees, two of them finding their mark Hitting Ysanne for 4 hps. On either of her flanks are a pair of archers, one fifteen feet off, the other thirty. On either side, the closest are wearing nothing other than loin clothes, and are clearly elves. The farther two are dressed in the same cloak and mask as the snipers. She hears voices ahead of her, and recognizes the sound of spells being cast. Though the language is completely foreign, she knows they are shield spells. She spots a third elf in a loincloth straight ahead, and three more behind him in leather armor. Those three hold staves. The rest carry bows and wear swords at their hips. Secret DM stuff:
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23 1d8 ⇒ 4 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 1d100 ⇒ 5 1d8 ⇒ 4 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14 1d100 ⇒ 9 1d8 ⇒ 2 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17 1d100 ⇒ 98 1d8 ⇒ 2 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19 1d100 ⇒ 36 1d8 ⇒ 2 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7 1d100 ⇒ 65 1d8 ⇒ 5 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22 Map coming soon, to a theater near you. ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Ismark glares but seems satisfied, and the coffin is raised again. The group proceeds to the cemetery behind the church. Ancient gravestones are nearly lost in the brambles that run wild, and elaborate statuary gives way to roughly chiseled slabs in more recent burials. The burgomaster's grave is in a family plot, a pile of earth beside it with a single shovel stuck in. The dates on the headstone that lies waiting in the grass show that he was not yet forty years old. Father Donavich comes out to speak a brief blessing over the grave, and to help lower the coffin into the grave. When it is done, Ismark takes the shovel, and begins to fill the grave. Ireena beckons you towards the church. "Let us leave him to bury father," she says. "The work will help him to purge his anger." Inside, she tells father Donavich of the previous night's events, and he frowns. "Strahd has grown powerful," he says, as if speaking to himself. He stares at the altar for a time, and after long contemplation, he looks up at you. "Too powerful for my meager knowledge to assist you. But there is one whose guidance may help you. Madame Eva." "The gypsies are his servants," Ireena objects. "They can't be trusted." "They serve him," Donavich says. "But they are not his servants. They serve because he pays them, but they follow their own law." ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() The prereq for leadership is 7th level. Which you guys would be, technically, so I'm not off the hook, am I?
![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() "I will not listen to my father insulted any longer," Ismark says to Jake. "I do not wish to spill blood as I go to bury him, so I will let you leave. You are no longer welcome here. Find someplace else to speak ill of good men who have done you no harm, and know that if I should see you again, you will answer for your lies." ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Sorala:
A few words remind you of elvish words: Understand blahblah no blahblah sweet blahblah. Ysanne continues to push ahead, until she's 10' from the edge of the woods. She sees the sniper jerk and stumble as Donatello's crossbow bolt strikes home, though with most of its force spent. And he feels sure it would have been a killing blow if he'd been using the damn gun. The sniper runs ahead and turns again, drawing his bow and aiming at Ysanne....
attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
The arrow flies towards his heart, and then drifts away on the wind and whips past him harmlessly. Ysanne is 40' from the sniper, Septimus, Rhyfelwr and Sandra 50', Vallen, Vada and Sorala 80' and Donatello 140' Ysanne is 10' from the deep forest (which makes for a 20% miss chance) ![]()
Indubitably Never 3d6
![]() Donatello, yes. Should any of your students reach level three they would become named NPCs. The odds of them getting to level three and remaining nameless is slim, imo, but certainly could happen. Vallen, one advantage teams have is time. Without the book handy I'm not positive, but a garden takes weeks to come online whereas a team takes days. Now, to the gameplay thread..
|