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It does sound like a real life issue :( Indeed. Goddity, if you're reading this in the future, please drop me a line to let me know you are okay! I've really enjoyed the campaign, and I liked the imaginative differences to 'standard'. Thanks for running!
Hob breathes more easily. "Better. he comments laconically with a nod to the beflowered healer.
"Huh. Looks like you were right Katsa. Could have saved time in the library room if we'd just come here first." he nods approvingly, and heads towards the nightstand, and the books.
"Just our luck he's dead in his bathroom." Hob grunts grimly. "I think we should check the other rooms too." he squints "Together."
Hob does his best to look unimpressed, though the Smith within him leaps at the thought of this much knowledge with such an impressive index. "When he said 'Silence'... who to? Was some one here? The sword? A demon?" Hob asks the head. A second later he follows up with a more precise question, his laconic phrasing switching to one more precise and almost academic "Librarian: give details on the books he took."
"I'm not a thief! No-one takes anything until we know the mage isn't here." Hob protests, and then explains. "If he's not here, then he's dead, most like."
Hob jumped back into defensive stance, shield raised, as the head awoke. "What in the Hells?"
Hob steps back a few paces, lowers Katsa to the ground, draws his polearm and sets himself.
mechanics:
"Everybody. Out!" Hob orders, doing his best to push his fellows back out the door. "Fight outside!"
Mechanics:
It is, indeed, the dilemma. Made all the worse by the randomness of the dice.
"Acid ooze." the blacksmith swears. With a bellowed scream Hob drops his weapon and lunges into the room, intent on grabbing Katsa and getting out. Holding the enormous shield in front of him he pushes straight through the illusionary Thurin, stoops, and uses his free hand to grab Katsa. mechanics: Hob is trying to get Katsa behind him - potentially he should be in her square. I have no idea how to do this. Is it still grappled? If so ,I suspect this is effectively join the grapple? Does he provokes? If so his AC is Happy for you to roll BBEGM. Hob has a CMB of 9, if that's relevant. My suggestions are * this is a grapple. Hob gets to participate in the grapple with the Ooze. If successful he is grappling Katsa instead of the ooze. Free: Drop weapon, Move: move in, Standard: grapple. * Hob is covering Katsa first. He is in her square, and uses his tower shield to give full cover against the ooze. Free: Drop weapon, Move: move in, Standard: use shield for cover as per tower shield. Either way, if he or Katsa is hit he'll use shield defence power to give a +2 AC bonus to the target.
Hob held his breath as the healer turned to flee. Without realising he lent forward, subconscious and conscious at war.
"Everyone out." Hob orders, and turns to the gnome. "You. Open those." he points to the curtains "From out here." he points outside the door.
"Sure." Hob shrugs. "Get out of the way though. I'll set up my shield, open the door. If there's a trap, hopefully it'll bounce off. Thurin, be ready to hit anything that comes out."
Hob continued to swing with perfectly timed mechanical precision against the statue. The construct had his rhythm now, though
mechanics & OOC:
Hob switches to a defensive stance, once more swinging out at the statue in front of him. Rage takes over his mind, and his flurry of strikes is well telegraphed.
With a sigh at having to break such beautiful creatures Hob drops his polearm and draws his sword, then lashes out at the golem flanking Thurin.
mechanics:
Hob nods, and takes the first cautious step.
Hob switches weapons, drawing a shield as tall as he is and a cut down polearm.
BBEGM and Thurin: If Thurin plays along... Hob will follow slowly, and (ready) Brace for an attack with 10 ft reach. If any of them do still attack Thurin, Hob will use his AoO to give Thurin a +2 AC from his Cover Ally.
Hob looks down at Ganzorig. "If we're ready, I'll go in. Can't you magic users... use magic or something?"
mechanics:
Harvest Parts: Can turn them into components worth (CR*CR*10)gp. Need the corpse to stick around, and a series of rolls, and only usable for very specific things. Hob pauses, becoming positively talkative as they veer into Smithing "Caryatid Columns. Wayland had preliminary sketches on them from ages back." 'Though these ones are wearing more clothes' "Maybe this is where he got the idea. His sketches were a simple golem. Immune to magic, and magically hardened; enough to damage weapons used against them."
"Need a minute to catch my breath." Hob coughs ad spits out another bit of aerosolised elemental out. "Talk all you want till then, but don't touch the door."
BBEGM: Hob needs 1 minute to regain his martial focus. So... did the elementals discorporate? If there's still elemental bits stuck on this plane Hob is likely to scavenge parts or trophies out of them. Constructs are basically a Blacksmith's natural prey, but given how hard the CR starts at...
Hob blinks the grit from his eyes, and looks at the doorway he was about to charge through with new respect. Carefully he backs up and looks around for more threats, a muttered curse on his lips.
Mechanics & BBEGM:
"No-one goes in." Hob warns. "Four wards just to get the door open. Odds are there's more." He looks in with narrowed eyes "I don't trust those columns." Carefully he sheaths his axe, picks up his sword and shield, and prepares.
Casting his axe aside Hob grunted as he reached for the damaged outsider, hands reaching into the stone and earth to grab hold...
mechanics: if E4 is up, then E4. Otherwise the one down from nonlethal. Initiate grapple - provokes AoO, I think. Free action to Frenzy (-2 AC, +6 HP) Plan is to throw it into the house and see if there's another trap/ward @BBEGM: if you want to narrate the toss in your post I'd be happy.
mechanics:
Hob's axe went up. Hob's axe went down. The 'treesplitter' was Hob's signature move at the competitions. A single blow with all the mass and power Hob - who once carried a horse on a bet - could muster. The question was not whether it had the power to cleave through the monster that had threatened Thurin, but whether - if he missed - Hob would have time to dig it out of the ground. Standard: attack E2 brutal strike If hit, target is battered for 1 round[/ooc]
The easiest way I find is just to use the average of the npc's bonus and roll once. if A, B, NPC, C, D
Means those players who invested in high init still get a bonus, and those of us who move like a wet log still cop the penalty ;)
Hob pauses for a second. The wards were built to keep out powerful creatures - and any group powerful enough were liable to be fractious. Logically, it made sense. Logic, however, didn't stop him from wanting to rip Ganzorig in two. With a ferocious grunt Hob redirects that anger. Shield and sword are cast aside as he stalks towards the door, and drew his axe.
Hob's anger doesn't dissipate, but with a final effort of will he redirects it into a blow against the door.
mechanics:
Hey Ganzorig, I'm not sure what you're going for here ooc.
Hob's eyes widen in disbelief. His nose flares, the smell of the fresh victims of the monster that killed his parents overpowering everything else. His grip on his cold iron sword tightens, and the shield raises slightly. He starts to stalk forward, then stops as he realises something. Obviously holding onto his patience through the last remnant of his will he turns to Thurin and through gritted teeth asks "Mind Control?"
"What?" roared the orc, standing tall to his full seven feet and towering over the gnome. "You saying something 'bout my mum?"
Hob stands between Pip and Kegan, though his head twitches as if trying to see through the back of his head. "What's happening?" he calls to his companions, attention still trained on the Faun on front of him. Drawing the smaller of his two shields he calls out to Pip "Won't ask you to drop the bow - Don't want to snap the string - but ease up on the tension and set your quiver aside."
Hob's nose twitches as Morrow's actions disturb the snow enough for smells to cut through the crisp air.
mechanics:
Hob uses the distraction provided by Thurin to vanish.
mechanics:
Getting as close as he can before he is spotted - or five feet, whichever comes first! As soon as he is seen he'll call out... He'll have his sword ready, and no shield. I think from the map he is going to be running around the back of the house, but he should have six rounds. "Good show, Eh." Hob stated to someone from a small distance away "Who're you, then?"
Mechanics:
- looking for the smell of the wolf. Didn't read the spoilers for the rolls I failed, so not sure if that is a double up. Hob stalks through the snow. His weight causes his feet to sink through the drifts and down onto the hard, cold ground. His head - visor raised - sniffs suspiciously at the air as they arrive, and he angles around to come via the garden. He leaves his shields at his back, but draws his monstrous cold iron sword as they come within sight. With a bound and a grab he launches himself to the top of the fence and looks around as the wrought iron groans dangerously. "Stay close." he growls.
I realised I need an orc naming scheme...
this morning:
The house rises when the sun does. Cockcrow rings through the house from the small pen built into the side wall , and the heavily feathered chickens push their way out a cleverly manufactured swinging door to scavenge for food in the clearing around the house. Hob walks to the kitchen where a haunch of something still slow cooks over embers. The one advantage of hosting a bunch of tribal hunters is the surfeit of fresh meat. He carves off some generous portions, pops out some vegetables that had been roasting in a dish built into the side of the chimney, and pops a jug on to boil. The first of the 'apprentices' - Bjarl, an orc kid living with Hob and Wayland who had ended up being slowly press ganged into helping out around the forge and potentially a herald of the end of the orc tribal lifestyle - runs in. Hob nods acknowledgement, and sends the boy off to wake Thurin and lead the dwarf to breakfast. Wayland turns up a little while later, and Hob smiles. 'If he can make it all the way here, maybe he's good today.' The smile fades when Wayland engages with Bjarl, confusing the boy with a much younger Hob. The orc sighs, as his good spirits evaporate. "Morn'." Hob grunts sullenly to Meredith. He nods to Katsa "Healer."
inn, last evening:
"Can we escort you home, healer?" Hob asks Katsa politely.
To Thurin he answers "I am. Journeyman." embarrassment crosses Hob's face - he's old for a Journeyman, and obviously local "My Master, Wayland, took sick. I held off leaving until he recovers. Don't want to leave the town without a Smith." "As I say, Wayland served under a dwarf Smith when he was a Journeyman. The Rock's Axes - a mercenary dwarven heavy infantry company. Wayland said they were the fastest Heavy Infantry company in the land. Said he learned more cobbling than smithcraft! But he learned his platecraft there." ooc:
@Thurin, want to pick something from the Smith Maintenance?
@Big Bad Evil GM, Wayland's background has him as knowing Kegan decades ago. Do you want to declare he's having a "bad day" to keep him out? Also, are Kimarl and Bojarn staying in the house or coming with? Hob turns up the next morning with everything he can think of. Full plate, three weapons, two shields, a backpack big enough to hold a full grown man, and a "travel" anvil that easily weighs a hundred pounds.
"I'd like to go back to my place, tell 'em all." he nods to Bojarn "she's not dying. I've spare room, if you'd like to stay the night." he pauses for a moment "I could patch up your gear, if you like. In the morning we can ask Master Wayland if anything strikes a spark. He used to know Kegan. Long time ago." 'And no guarantee he'll be having a good day' He also looks over at Thurin "There's room for you as well. Time was Wayland trained with dwarves, always spoke well of 'em. Might be you've news he'd like." Hob nods at the dwarf - a multipurpose gesture in the smith's arsenal. "Taught me some of the dwarf runes, but I never could hold a chat."
Hob growls "Wolf killed my parents when I was a lad, fifteen odd years ago. It's not from inside the House." he paused "Not for a long, long time, anyway."
"Rvhedg?" Hob hesitates. "They do not have a word. Ghost? Spirit?" he pauses "Humans talk about the monster under the bed. You know it is there, without seeing or hearing? That it wants to hurt you? That is Rvhedg, maybe."
Hob nods at Kats. "Better." he looks around the room and back "Two things said fast look like one thing."
"They've not done anything wrong." Hob grumbles in protest. "Spirit Wolf doesn't come this close to town. Wards might've blown Kimarl's head off, but there was no reason to expect the wolf. No reason to think anyone else was in danger, and the boy doesn't lack a spine."
Nah, that was good!
mechanics:
Hob frowns at the younger Orc, and looks down as Morrow finishes "Don't reckon anyone else made it out. That's the wolf alright." "Do you have any of the arrows?" Hob demands "Can't think of anything around here that uses large arrows except maybe Orcbows. Tend to be about" Hob gestures a size, perhaps ten percent larger than a normal arrow. "Fey tend to small, if they use arrows at all, and poisoned. They do use smaller javelins - could've been javelins?" he pauses "Maybe a ballista? "
"Either way, you fought the Wolf. If you need a room, local Tribe'll put you up - or I will." He nods, and looks down again. "Give me the name of those who fell, and I'll put up a stone, try to find the bodes tomorrow. What's left of them."
The Orcs rumble a little as they pass into the inn, and Hob removes his helmet in politeness. When the energy passes through him he stands a little stronger and waves for a round.
He turned to Morrow "This all of them, then?" 'All left, at any rate'
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