Gwendalyn's page

Though not entirely sure how they ended up devoting a city to one little girl, she helps Revery get the statue right.

Gwendalyn's face lifts in a ghost of a grin at Sajeek's question. It was an excellent one, especially without Noggy coming along. The brunt of keeping everyone alive would fall on her again.

Of course, the risks they took and the dangers they braved should be enough by itself to only attract the fit, but could also attract the ignorant or addled. It remained to be seen which categories Ksenya fell into. "And am I only fit, or also addled?" she has the wisdom to wonder in the privacy of her own mind, pretty sure that she was at least not ignorant. Not after what they'd endured.

I can't remember why Pravus Mortis is naming the city after one random girl out of the many people that they have saved over the years. Gwendalyn is fine with the name for her own reason -- she's a shaman of justice -- but why a statue to someone who ended up being okay? Is there something I'm forgetting?

Gwendalyn politely declines the portfolio of public relations, suggesting that their merry half-elf would be a better choice. Law and order, however, are a natural fit for her.

"Ha! No thank you," she replies. "As much as I dislike them, I don't want to fight them all. No sense in it. Eventually we'd meet some more skilled, or sheer numbers would wear us down, and then we'd be dead. Better to negotiate a treaty, which is best done from a position of strength. Much easier to convince someone to not attack you, when they're not sure of success."

I've been kind of down and unmotivated the last couple of days, which has affected all of my games. Hopefully tonight I'll be inspired for some real roleplaying, but right now the best I can do is show up.

Gwendalyn nods, reluctantly. "We need time to get things in order, before accepting visitors. If we have enough food and water, perhaps that would be to the best."

The spent Northwoman can't argue with the halfling's logic. She pulls him up into a hard embrace and laughs, then puts the well-armored little man back down. "Yes, and you sure did hit him hard. The Tribunal bless you, Jinx. We couldn't have done it without you." She smiles.

Gwendalyn sees the dark-skinned enchanter crying on the ground and moves to comfort her friend of years, laying a meaty hand on his bony shoulder. "The gods are what they are. You can still love someone, even if they don't feel the same way."

Gwendalyn screams at the lich's touch and shrivels even further, her spell lost to his desiccating magic. Then, Revery activates Wilhavyn's holy symbol to mixed effect, restoring her youth while burning himself near to death. Jinx crushes Tintragen and she desperately tries to heal them all while powerful undead flow into the maze, intent on their undoing. Then it appears that Quellious finally realizes her mistake and takes both old foes to herself, one for reward and the other for punishment, while banishing all of the evil mockeries of life from her sight.

The large woman stands stiffly, having pissed herself in fear when the terrifying horde rushed them at the end. Her cracking voice breaks the silence. "Did... did we win?"

Boy, Gwendalyn really regrets not thinking of a lich's hands as weapons. Now that's a mistake that you don't make twice! (Probably because you're dead.)

The big old woman in a fine chain shirt throws an elbow at the lich as he clumsily tries to work some magic, clearly out of practice with using his own body. Then, she bestows a familiar blessing of animal rage on Kwen.

Slam AoO: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Gwendalyn pulls out her second and final waterskin of holy dwarven spirits, but it took so long to spray the other one that she decides to cast a little spell first. It's a tough choice, but she finally heals Sajeek of some of the weakening that he took from witnessing the ghost. There's nothing benign about her aid; she wants to make him better at stabbing Tintragen to death, plain and simple.

While we were skulking around in the manor, I was also working on a preliminary shopping list, since I'm kind of slow at that kind of thing, and I don't want to hold things up. (Seriously, several days.) I think that all I have left is the details of the mundane adventurer's gear. How does it look?

Gwendalyn reaches out helplessly as Jinx rushes at the newly-intact lich with his well-made chunk of forged rock. "No, what's-his-name's sword!" She squints in dismay, but can't look away as the fierce little warrior ignores the magical weapon that she forced on him for a reason. Some people just need to learn for themselves. Then Revery squirts his own holy liquor at their undead foe, and she brightens at a sudden thought. "Wilhavyn's medal! Could it help?"

Fort vs. DC 17: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15 Failure

Str damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4
Dex damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3
Con damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Gwendalyn whimpers and shrivels as Garanel turns his attention on the group. Her magic to see spirits backfires as she perceives the full horror of his condition: a good man forced into a bad situation, first by a lich and then by gods. His existential agony falls upon her with supernatural weight and she seems to age over thirty years in an instant, looking like an old woman now; yet when the ghost flies to the hedge maze, she hobbles along briskly, terror lending wings to her painful steps.

Then battle is engaged, at the very moment when Tintragen finally finds his body and the dwarf recovers his own. The aged Northwoman has no time to contemplate what fates and choices led them to this perilous situation. Sajeek recommends the dwarven holy water and she finds this to be an excellent suggestion, pulling out one of her own waterskins and squeezing the whole thing onto the powerful lich, her arthritic hands acting with alacrity while her wrinkled face is locked in a rictus of fear.

Then she remembers that she can cast spells, and reaches out desperately to her tenuous connection with the Tribunal. Dropping the empty waterskin carelessly, the big old luminary gestures confidently and speaks firmly, invoking distant spirits from her recent youth. The halfling Jinx feels a blessing of animal ferocity descend upon him, and then Gwen quixotically attempts to blind their fearsome foe, more to gauge his power than out of any expectation of success.

Sorry, also, what is the type of bonus? (The most common types for magic items seem to be "enhancement", "augmentation" and "none".)

For the mass re-buy, how much are cutthroat insignia rings actually worth? Turns out that they aren't in Al'Kabor's Arcana either.

Gwendalyn is nearly paralyzed with fear from the insanely powerful and plenteous evil beings that converge on their location, most of whom somehow magically seem to not even notice them. (The cackling ugly thing on the hedge maze is particularly disturbing.) She puts a finger over her lips with one shaky hand, and with the other points back at the building that Tintragen came from. With care, perhaps they can make it out of the melee alive, to ambush the lich at the precise moment that his powers are at their ebb, and he seeks shelter to recover them.

Ah, now I get it. I didn't really question the omission. Obviously I noticed it (since I posted my own damage), but I just figured it was because I hadn't declared Gwendalyn going out the windows yet. I figured maybe you were saving the 1d6 roll in case I decided to stand my ground and you needed several fistfuls of dice. I don't really know how your mind works...

What did I miss?

Things were going surprisingly well -- which was starting to make her nervous -- when Khrix showed up and set things back to as messed up as usual. Gwendalyn is about to suggest that they try the unmapped stairs down to the basement in the office (#7), when Sajeek thinks outside the box and sends them out through the shattered chapel windows instead. The flip side of armor light enough to sleep in is that it doesn't really protect all that well from sliding over broken glass, but her cuts are as nothing when she hears the necromancer heading downstairs, just like she would've done.

Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 6

Exploring the manor was far from a complete loss; they learned the nature of the curse, saw the desecration, and even obtained some useful magic items. However, it didn't get them what they needed, which was for the curse to be lifted. Perhaps it was time to be more systematic. Gwendalyn considers the ornamental gardens to the east (#7); before, they'd caught glimpses of a gazebo (#8) in the middle, so she hefts Ilina's fine falchion and gestures questioningly at the hostile greenery. They could maybe chop their way in and out fast; and the single zombie that they saw earlier would hardly be much of an obstacle, as long as they re-killed it quietly.

"My question is, where would you expect that body to be found when it isn't fighting Garanel's ghost? I don't want to go through every other powerful undead in this estate." She ponders and her brows pull together in concern. "I sensed where Garanel is, thanks to Spirit Sight. Do we dare ask for his help? That might be too dangerous..."

Gwendalyn looks around sorrowfully. "So, now that we've seen his handiwork... Where do you think we can find Tintragen?"

It turns out that there's a 1st-level shaman spell that isn't on the summary list. I only found out about Dextrous Aura because it was referenced by Spirit of Monkey. Please tell me if you come across any other "hidden" shaman spells.

@Torchbearer: Just FYI, myrmidon is a level-based title for warriors. Like how Gwendalyn started out as a shaman, then was a mystic for awhile, and just recently became a luminary. We'll get new titles at I think level 15? So if you're going to keep Jinx, you might prefer to make a new alias without the title before posting too much more. (He could use a surname anyway.)

What the smurf? 45,000?! I'd better get crackin'.

@Torchbearer: Loot is chancy in this game. When selecting spells for your paladin, I recommend that you also look at the next spell level or two. (I'm doing two.) You can buy the scrolls and scribing materials now, or just leave enough cash free.

Before they leave the questionable safety of the bedroom, Gwendalyn casts Spirit Sight on Kwen, because he's in front; Revery, because he might be able to identify what he sees; and herself, because she can. She also casts Inner Fire on Kwen, in case he triggers a trap; Revery, because he's so bad at not getting hit; and herself, again because she can. Then, she casts Spirit of Wolf on Nogglegrop and Jinx, to keep the group moving along nicely.

It isn't as good as casting everything on everyone, but this is taking much longer than she expected, and her pool of magical power is not so deep; she can't fully buff them all every hour and a half. When she's done, the luminary adjusts her memorized spells a bit, noting with delight that she can keep one more in mind at a time now.

Gwen doesn't quite take everything that isn't nailed down, but the thrifty Northwoman certainly makes sure that they don't leave behind any of the magic items or other valuables. She puts the cloak on herself, handing the short sword to Jinx -- "it's no earthbreaker, but some things here are not quite of this world, and mundane weapons are of little use against them" -- and offers the fine little mace to Nogglegrop, since it looks like his own only better.

Fort vs. DC 15: 1d20 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 7 - 2 = 8 Failure
Duration: 1d3 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2 x 10 = 20 minutes

She's no delicate flower, and she's had to wade through decaying corpses before, but hearing Noggy upchuck in the back stairway is just too much. Retching convulsively, she adds her own vomit to the unspeakable smells and slip hazards.

Will vs. DC 20: 1d20 + 12 - 4 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 12 - 4 + 10 = 32 Success
Fort vs. DC 15: 1d20 + 7 - 2 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 7 - 2 + 10 = 32 Success

By some miracle, they actually make it all the way to the chapel unscathed. Though the priest's unattended body presents a tragic sight, his amulet is a soothing balm to nerves frayed by the fearful curse. Her doubts flee and her stomach settles.

"Ha. Let's please keep the excitement to a minimum." Gwendalyn broods over the maps. "Down the stairs to the kitchen gets my vote; it's a fairly direct route, and the gnecromancer probably won't expect us to leave that way, so anything we encounter will hopefully be fooled by Noggy's spell. Going through the ballroom to the main stairs is about the same distance, but more desirable real estate than the front room, which makes it more likely to hold sentients. Going by the balcony means too many open sight lines, and no magic is perfect or unbeatable."

Gwendalyn ponders. "Re-sanctifying the chapel is not a matter for a simple spell. It would take a unique ritual, and divine intervention. Then there is the matter of making it stick, as long as Tintragen is still around to undo our work. I would think that we should take him out first, but a lich? Is this even in our power?"

Trade Skill (tailoring) vs. DC 22: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25 Success

In a way, Gwendalyn wishes that the bloody gnome had known her people's tongue, since she could use a distraction from the oppressive sense of doom. Being useless with the journal, she begins messing around with the magic items instead. As a seamstress's daughter and a tailor in her own right, maker of Revery's silk armor, she recognizes the boots right off. She taps Kwen to get his attention silently. "Try these on," she whispers. "They're goo boots. Very quiet and a little bit sticky." He deserved a reward for making the room safer by finding that secret door and disabling the traps.

The others, she has no idea. The short sword looks to possibly be of Combine make, but she isn't familiar with edged weapons, and can't tell if it's any better or worse than another. She tries on the robes and just feels silly, so she takes them off and hands them to Revery, assuming that he'd like them; not to stereotype him as an Erudite, but because he's worn robes before of his own free will. She puts on the cloak (without the strange-looking pin), then takes it off and lies under the blanket, to see if she feels at all different.

Spellcraft vs. DC 18: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13 Failure
Will vs. DC 20: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17 Failure

Before they settle in to rest, Gwen studies her spellbook for a bit and re-casts Talisman of the Beast, this time with Jinx as the sixth instead of Revery or dead Ilina. As usual, her totem spirit -- a giant, transparent polar bear -- appears behind the young shaman to take the spell in its great paws, but this time it was looking dreadfully unhappy.

In the past, the ghostly bear seemed to be grinning with affection, or perhaps amusement at her youthful exuberance and joy in the simple spell; here, it was nearly cringing with dismay and glancing around warily, as if in a hurry to leave. She looks over her shoulder and her face falls at its appearance, for if even her totem spirit doesn't want to be here, then who is she to stay?

The fisherman's daughter pokes at the tiny fish rolls and sighs. Even if they weren't so small as to be little more than a snack to someone of her stature, she can't trust that the devious necromancer didn't poison them. He managed to make them all forget his very existence for a time; who knew what else he could do? Oh well, they probably wouldn't be as good as her mom's fish rolls anyway. She glumly munches on trail rations before trying to get some rest.

After sleeping, Luminary Gwendalyn (100/100 hit points, 100/100 mana, shaken) doesn't feel rested exactly, but she does feel... stronger. As if repeatedly forcing her way through the curse to her connection with the Tribunal had strengthened it, the way that hard work builds muscles. She stands up and stretches to her full, impressive height, at no risk of touching the high ceilings in the roomy manor. "So. What do we know? Any ideas for what to do next?"

Will vs. DC 29: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (11) + 12 = 23 Failure

Gwendalyn has no more thought for the gnome that she didn't expect and didn't want to fight in the first place. He was in the way of where they wanted to be, and then he happened to turn out to be a right bastard, but that's hardly surprising. Her attention has moved on.

Well I know better than to ask for advice and then disregard a consensus, so Mystic Capacity it is. ;)

Nota bene: Gwendalyn was impatient to know what was in the journal, and has no idea how lucky she was to not see traps that weren't there.

Mystic Capacity? Allows you an extra spell to cast.

I want that so much! But Malise opens up whole other pathways to victory, besides just melee and buffs. Tashan to Malise to debuff and damage spells. And now I've talked myself into taking Spell Focus.

Gwendalyn is ready for review.

Gwen looks at Kwen like she doesn't even know him. "If that's what it comes down to -- trying to subdue the world's undead by force -- then we should just leave before we get beat and join them. But I'm not going anywhere or doing anything until we read that book." She points at the large, iron-clasped journal atop the small table, beside the far side of the bed from the door. She examines the fancy tome for traps before turning to the first page and then the last, since beginnings and endings illuminate what comes between.

Spot: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

Any advice on feats? I'm thinking of using training points to get Spell Focus (alteration) now and Quest Spell next level, both for spells that I can't even cast yet. The former is mostly to help Malise land, and the latter is for more flexibility in using AoE spells like Infectious Cloud and Poison Storm. I just want to make sure that I'm not missing some hidden gem.

Fort vs. DC 12: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26 Success

Events continue to roll over Gwendalyn with such weight and rapidity that she is hardly affected by the necromancer's improvised abattoir, while she tries to absorb the implications of everything that they have seen and done so far. She nods at Nogglegrop's evaluation. "At some point, we may need to rethink our policy of stab first and ask questions later, but for now... Let's just see what's in that book."

Gwendalyn follows the others in a kind of daze, trying to understand this strange place. Preoccupied, she hardly even notices that they're moving toward a light on purpose; except maybe for dark elves, it's perfectly natural for living creatures to do that, from moths to erudites.

Then the spectre floats by and she freezes like a mouse in a field sensing a gliding falcon, distracting herself with irrelevant thoughts, like why is it an anagram of scepter in the common tongue? Is there a connection with royalty also possessing an intangible, enduring, fearsome power, or is it just a coincidence?

The next thing Gwen knows, they're in a bedroom with a gnome and his pet skeleton. The shaman buffs herself and is about to tell everyone to focus on the master, when she realizes that they're already doing it. She slams into the skeleton and swings her hammer at it, since the other is already surrounded.

Gwendalyn is very careful of the troll's well-guarded trove, since it seemed like some of her worst life experiences had started with an innocent drink, and there was little innocence to spare in this place. Aside from disagreeing with the proposition that the taproom is a good place to stay, she is content to follow the others' lead, not really having any good ideas for where to go next.

"Yes, well, you're nuts," Gwendalyn whispers back, aware that she is currently not in much of a position to talk. She stows her ineffective spiked chain, keeping her hammer ready at hand. "I'm not seeing anything particularly curse-like. Should we try the towers next?"

Spot vs. DC 20: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7 Failure
Listen vs. DC 14: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18 Success

Having once been attacked by a riptide goblin hiding above an entrance to a cave, Gwendalyn is vigilant and notices a stray sound from above. Twisting to see, she whispers "Ghoul!" urgently, drops her hammer, gets out her spiked chain, and whips it to keep it from grabbing her hair. She hates that.

Gwendalyn nods at Noggy's suggestion, having had much the same thought as they ascended the ruined manor. She puts the skin away and draws her two-handed hammer.

Gwendalyn snaps shut the jaw that had dropped at the heart-stopping scene. All they could do for that poor dwarf was try and figure out the curse, and end it so that he won't rise when he falls. She nods and joins Sajeek at the manor's door, waiting for Kwen to go first.

Referring to "hardcore": it's actually taken me a long time to get the games that I want, with the right pace. It's easy to end up in a game where they expect multiple long roleplaying posts per day, because everyone else can (for whatever reason). It's also easy to end up in a game where things hardly ever happen. The sweet spot (for me) of a post a day is much less common than the games that say they're gonna do it. I've compensated by getting four other almost (but not) daily games, instead of two other actually daily games.

Reflex vs. DC 15: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19 Success

Gwendalyn snerks at Jinx's silent comment, and she shrugs the sheathed falchion onto her back; it's just for selling, not using. Her eyebrows then rise in surprise at Kwen's silent question, and the mystic chops the air forward (west along the south wall), whispering, "Let's hit it while it's busy."

Gwendalyn is a little confused at first when Nogglegrop begins doling out platinum pieces, then remembers how often things turn out that they end up running for their lives. Nodding knowingly, she accepts the plat and grabs Ilina's fine falchion and badass bow. Just in case. She looks longingly at her countrywoman's amazing armor, but if it came down to running, she would just have to drop it anyway.

When they get out of the abandoned tunnel, the tall shaman points to the left and whispers, "I want to get behind the manor, sticking to the wall as much as possible. Be careful going between those hedges and that pyramid thingie; I hate surprises." She pulls out both of her skins of dwarven holy spirits, offering one to Jinx.

Gwendalyn nods at Kwen's concern. "I think that we should take no more than half an hour. That would leave about twenty minutes on the spells that I cast at the base of this mountain for me, Noggy and Revery to see spirits. I assume the ghost I'm sensing has something to do with the curse, and I figure that if it takes longer than that for us to get from here to the rear of the manor and deal with it, then we're probably dead anyway." She shrugs at the brutal efficiency of her reasoning that has little to do with math.

The mystic doesn't really have much to add on the subject of the stones that Sajeek is going on about. "Beats me. Since we don't know, hopefully it won't make a difference."

Knowledge (mysticism): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16

When she makes her request, Gwendalyn notices that Revery has to tear himself away from pondering the white flames dancing in the obsidian rock, which is admittedly strange. She considers it herself, between spellcastings.

Gwendalyn is glad when Nogglegrop is able to bring Jinx back to his senses, even if the warrior seems to think that they've lost theirs. Who knows? Maybe he's right. Following them sure wasn't a good idea for Ilina. She catches herself; time enough for grieving and self-recriminations later, after they're safe.

Once they have a moment to catch their breath, the shaman remembers something. "Before, when we were fighting that spiky skeleton, I sensed something. A presence behind the mansion. I think it's time to make sure everyone can see ghosts." She casts Spirit Sight on the two halfies and the two big cats, and considers.

"Revery, that shield that you put on Sajeek. Could you put it on everyone who doesn't have one? I got you and Kwen, but I'm running low; and the less healing we have to do from here on out, the better." She heals herself from the skeletons, and heals Kwen mostly from what Ilina did when he tried to throw that kukri (which she tactfully doesn't mention).

"And can you strengthen Jinx? I can't re-cast that talisman right now. There's something else I need to do..." She pulls out her spellbook and meditates for a few seconds, forgetting Spirit Strike and memorizing Spirit of Wolf instead. She casts it on Noggy. "It isn't much, but it should help."

Gwendalyn wrote:

and the freshly undead barbarian burst in, hot on her heals.

<hands award for the most apt typo ever>

Oops! Fixed. <puts award next to other similar ones>

Gwendalyn doesn't have time to wonder how Jinx came to be here; she hardly has time for anything before the remaining skeleton and the freshly undead barbarian burst in, hot on her heels. She doesn't even have time to advise the little berserker to hit Ilina first when he does it anyway, with an incredible, eye-widening ferocity. However, Gwen has fought with many warriors -- including her own brother, Tudan -- and she's seen them go nuts when heavily wounded, so she expects this to be a simple matter of healing the halfling. Though she might come to regret it, the thought is no sooner formed than put into action.

Root is awesome. I would've gotten it, but Revery can get it as a lower-level spell (therefore cheaper), yet with a higher DC. I just noticed, his DCs might be one point too high? (Probably from when you had that belt.) I don't envy your difficult decisions on 5th-level spells, since there are so many good ones, but I have to say that Mesmerization is iconic.