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Vojtek nods and looks on expectantly.
"Hmmph."
DC 10 Perception:
Vojtek looks like he has left nothing unsaid.
Vojtek nods at Davosh's hastily whispered instructions, and before the strange man's head withdraws from proximity to Vojtek's ear, the northman claps his hands twice. Once he has everyone's attention he inelegantly issues instructions to pack up and get ready to go. As he obeys Kappi asks, "Where are we going?" Vojtek shrugs and tilts his head toward Davosh with a look that indicates that with the Speaker to the Ancestors one can never quite know.
Hero Point out, Hero Point in.
Vojtek raises his bloody face from the dragonkin's wounds, and wraps his arms around the creature's wings in an almost loving embrace. Almost loving, because there is quite a bit of violence involved including rending flesh with his fearsome claws.
(Assuming that is a success...) The muscle of his heart as it rises in his chest seems to remember the trauma that led to its transplant. Vojtek's borrowed heart sings of the remembered thrill, while his eyes narrow into the screaming wind as the entangled pair starts to plummet toward Triaxus. DMTS: It'd be pretty cool if the big reveal of Vojtek's wings was to make this a HALO jump, and juuuust before hitting the ground he pops those suckers out and lands on the (hopefully) corpse
Vojtek leaps from the saddle and with claws outstretched commences a full attack on the Blue just below him. As he plummets into combat, he shouts for Nevra to do... something? She certainly doesn't hear him or understand. But Vojtek's focus is blood, to taste dragonblood and feel it course through his veins once more... wait that doesn't track at all. Vojtek thirsts for the coppery taste, the vital essence of dragonkind to quicken his pulse with its immortal energy once again. To warm the too-long empty chambers of his frozen heart after so long reluctantly sipping the tepid blood of a mere human frame. That can't be right... All reason flown from his mind, Vojtek's claws sink into dragonflesh! for .
for .
And for . Confirm: for His bite fails to find purchase because he tattered lips are so eager to drink from the dragonkin's wounds... Nevra wheels in frustration, and spotting groundling Ali beside her fallen mount, she noses toward them amd dives to provide support.
Vojtek is way out of his element here, he doesn't have much experience riding creatures or talking to them either. "I am Vojtek, Clanless. I come from the land of the ice and snow. I have sworn to kill The White who killed my people on the tundra by the edge of the ice."
Vojtek feels a stirring at his side and with a start realizes Davosh is peering into the man's belt pouch with intense interest. As the Speaker of the Ancients fondles the supple leather sack with one hand, he begins poking around the interior with a strange glass rod. The rooting and examining intensifies and when Vojtek starts to respectfully object, Davosh presses the glass rod to the barbarian's lips to shush him without taking his attention from the pouch. Vojtek stiffens a bit with frustration at the strange man's liberties and outlandish interpersonal skills. But alas the Ancestors deserve our respect and deference, so Vojtek resigns himself to the intrusion. With arcane mutterings, a sidebar or two with unseen interlocutors, and several pieces of Vojtek's best jerky taken as payment, Davosh starts furiously scribbling in the air with the glass rod. With The Eye rolling wildly as the scribbling intensifies, Vojtek hovers between Curious and Concerned. By this time, Kappi's interest has been piqued and the Varisian peers with interest over Davosh's shoulder. These goings on remind the lad of the antics his people might get up to with a hat placed out for an odd coin to be tossed in on the street. But for the buskers it was show and misdirection. For Davosh it was something else entirely. Eldritch energy seemed to emanate from the man in staticky waves. Finally, with a flick of his wrist reminiscent of Varisian legerdemain, Davosh pulls a folded piece of paper out of thin air. He opens it, examines the spidery scrawl upon it, and hands it to Vojtek solemnly. "Take this to Zilvazaraat my boy. Offer him what coin he demands, and do so with the blessings of the Ancestors. Then wear what he gives you. Speak no more of this!" With a cackle of unbridled mirth, he turns and scuttles away. But as he takes his leave, The Eye maintains an unblinking stare on Vojtek and Kappi, almost daring them to defy. They do not. Shopping list:
Ring of Feather Fall -2.2k Eyes of the Eagle -2.5k Girdle of Giant Strength +2 -4k Cloak of Resistance +2 -4k Apparatus of Kwalish -90k Heward's Handy Haversack -2k Traveler's Any-Tool -250 Boots of Striding and Springing -5.5k "Ahh some archaic terms written in a long-dead script... Who bade you bring this to me, young man?" Kappi starts to respond to Zilvazaraat, but the being turned to a cloud of smoke before his eyes...
Vojtek turns and mouths a question to Kappi about Egrets. Egrets? He seems to be on the verge of asking this being to fix his broken armor, but Davosh's Eye rolls once in his direction (Independent of the other eye, his attention, and the rest of his head) and with near tangible force shuts the barbarian's gob.
Vojtek wonders silently if repairing broken armor might be among her mysterious skills. He's not typically shy or modest, but he is glad she is blind because he's pretty sure his dragonballs are showing.
Vojtek gapes at Kappi's daring for a second. He allllllmost leaps after him because he so admires his little brother's pluck and daring. But instead he draws his bowstring to his cheek and fires an arrow at Kappi's new mount. for .
FML... Kappi whispers to Vojtek that the creature he is trying to bifurcate is already in several pieces thanks to earlier efforts to that effect. He politely suggests Vojtek instead attacks the flying baddie, and Vojtek reluctantly agrees. He plants his axe in the bloody stump of a thick drake leg, draws his bow and fires at blue. Already rolled a 14, attack is +12, for 28. Damage:
+1 vs. Cold, +3 vs. fear, paralysis, or sleep, plus...
Modifiers:
Vojtek fumbles with his bow slightly but just for a moment - clawed hands aren't as nimble after all. He draws back the mighty weapon and fires at the reddish tinged drake! for .
Vojtek ponders the strange reverie in which he finds himself slowly emerging. He feels rested, refreshed even. He looks around to get his bearings and squint his eyes with furrowed brow to clear the momentary confusion from his hazy thoughts. Where is he? What is he doing? He looks to his companions and it starts to come back to him...
John has been carefully considering a shopping list ever since the Duke's hand was glued to a magic hammer. He makes sure his friends know where he is going and sets off to buy crucial supplies. Weapons Etc.
Fix It Kit
Adventuring Gear
Donkeyhorse
Total: 1790 gp, 38 sp, 4cp
"I don't know my letters m'lord, but I've heard my wife teaching our boys enough to know that people use ettercaps for proper names and at the start of a sentence."
John Downtime:
Gozrek holds the paper gently in one hand, being careful not to wrinkle it or smudge the ink. The winter morning is cool, but not yet as cold as it will be come Abadius. He breathes in the smells of Solasgaard and feels a thrill at the bustle of the city. With hard-packed dirt giving way to a muddy slurry as he descends a slight depression, the young man picks his way around a puddle, a pile from a passing horse, and some refuse tossed on the side of the thoroughfare. With a glance toward a gang of surveyors marking out what might be a wall or perhaps a guard tower with pickets, shouting, and some good-natured laughter, Gozrek hurries on at the edge of town. His goal is a shop one of the Baron's men recommended, where he might find the items on his list. Fragrant smoke, as from a brazier burning incense or some rare wood, wafts from a doorway and the boy knows he has arrived. He enters the shop, and a soft magical chime announces he has crossed the threshold. As if summoned by the chime, a strapping youth of about his own age emerges briefly from a back room, ducks his head back inside, then fully emerges with a smile and a pleasant greeting. Gozrek exchanges pleasantries and grins at the teen's enthusiasm as he examines the offered paper carefully. "One moment friend, I'll show this to my uncle and see if he can help." The young man disappears into the back once again, and Gozrek hears him speaking indistinctly, apparently explaining their customer's request. "The Baron?!" a second voice exclaims. In short order a figure much closer to what Gozrek envisioned as the proprieter of a shop selling magical items emerges. The man's nephew hovers excitedly nearby while the older gentleman peers at Gozrek curiously under bushy grey brows. After explaining the situation again, Gozrek gestures to the now-partially crumpled paper in the man's bony grip. The shopkeeper nods, smiles at Gozrek showing a familial trait of good-naturedness that the nephew apparently inherited, and starts bustling around the shop with an air of urgency. In time, the man produces an inlaid case - black with fine stained oak highlights. He opens the case carefully on the worn wooden counter and gestures for Gozrek to inspect the item. The archer's son leans in without touching the rod and nods, although he is a little unsure of himself. The rod is wrought of iron, with a leather thong tied through a small loop at one end. It is about the length of a small mace, and seems totally inert. Gozrek isn't quite sure if he expected a magical glow, or glittering sparks to manifest, but he can appreciate the quality workmanship before him. "Please convey my compliments to the Baron young man, and my thanks for considering my humble shop. Of course if he isn't completely satisfied, simply come back with the rod within two days' time and I will see if I can find something that might better meet his needs." Gozrek thanks the man, and promises to carry the rod and case carefully back to the Baron's man. The shopkeeper then produces a rolled up piece of leather, bound with twine. Deftly, and perhaps with a touch of magic the twine is suddenly untied, and the leather roll unfurls itself with a sigh and seems to pour itself languidly over the countertop. Gozrek smiles at the clever trick and admires the belt on the counter. It is a black leather belt that is incredibly supple. There are silvery runes along the inside, and the buckle is a strange flat black metal that barely makes a sound at all and reflects very little light. "This is for your father, no?" Gozrek nods, and the shopkeeper encourages the young man to try it on. Unsure of himself, the nephew offers to help. With a flourish, he wraps the belt round Gozrek's waist and buckles it. The tingle he feels might be his imagination, but the belt seems alive with energy, and Gozrek feels lighter on his feet upon wearing it. It is a strage feeling, but not at all unpleasant. Stranger still, the belt seems to adjust itself dynamically to allow for bending, stretching, or twisting without constricting Gozrek's movement at all. "This should make my father very pleased. If I agree to purchase it, and he is not as pleased as I think, can he have the same opportunity to exchange it as youve extended to the Baron?" The shopkeeper hems a bit, clearly not having anticipated this. But upon considering that this young man came armed with a chit from the Baron and is clearly shopping for someone of means in the person of his father... he agrees. Gozrek and the nephew share another grin as money changes hands, and the lad departs the store to another sounding of the magical chime. With his father's belt wrapped up in its twine once more, and the Baron's oblong wooden case in his arms, Gozrek returns with his mission accomplished.
plus...
Modifiers:
+1 for peayer, +2 for inspire courage if it is a charm spell or fear, +1 for bless if it is fear. "Do not speak of her, devil. She served none but the goodly gods of home and hearth in life, and in death she will rest in peace until I join her."
After Unrak moves. John will advance into the room. If he can shoot an arrow he will. But he wants to make sure Unrak has room to maneuver. Ooc- I'll need an assist with pog positioning, so Mike can you move John when you move Unrak?
Humble John Fletcher Level 8
John is completely flat-footed with the talk of restoring souls to corpses. This is so far beyond his experience that he is simply gobsmacked. He files the idea away though, in the event his search for his family ends with... the unspeakable. The much less unreasonable, but still mad, idea of flying like an arrow through the sky is something he is at least prepared to address. "I can not fly m'lord" He shakes his head gently in amazement that he actually had occasion to utter that sentence.
Some pale blue liquid trickles from the corner of the man' mouth and leaves a trail across his grimy skin to the rough three-day growth on his chin. The lion's share finds its way to his belly though, and his eyes slowly flutter open. He turns to the half-elf kneeling at his side. When he sees the empty vial in her hand and the concerned look on her face, some pieces fall into place for him and he softly offers a genuine "Thank you" in an accent marking him as a Rostlander, or at the least someone of rural Brevic extraction. With a start, his dark eyes fly open and he weakly asks with urgency in his voice, "What's day is it?!?"
Lucky asks the Captain if he can try his hand at it, and gives it a whirl, redonning his hat for luck!
Zed corrects his usually grammatically precise leader, "I can summon something WELL since I've trained in the arts of summoning extensively, first at the Academae, and later under the tutelage of Morkeleb the Mighty." Zed seems miffed that his summoning prowess was brought into question, and in such a clunky way. But despite his exhaustion and his robust ego slowing his usually lightning quick intellect for a moment, Zed quickly realizes what Taranis intended and begins to summon something Good. In short order, a well-muscled humanoid with a canine head appears, weilding a greatsword and exuding a menacing ferocity. Summon Monster IV: Hound Archon Zed strains with the effort of even standing, and slumps against the wall nearest him.
Vojtek is almost frighteningly transfixed on the clear blue sky, with a longing to once again soar through his domain of the iron grey sky raining death and ice on the mortals below. These feelings stirring in his heart are powerful, and the physical manifestations the group had noted with growing concern start subtly pushing to the fore.
Lucky wants to do it.
Lucky insists on befriending the capybara and adopting it as his pet. He asks Kilt for assistance in taming the magical creature!
Vojtek's draconic is pretty limited since Edward's lessons seem to focus heavily on Apsu prayers and the like. But still it sort of sounded like Edward was saying draconic heart but that couldn't be right.... that wouldn't make any sense.
+1 vs. Cold, +3 vs. fear, paralysis, or sleep, plus...
Modifiers: <- Did we expect a different result?
Vojtek continues his assault in a blind fury. His body apparently takes to 'flying' and his draconic heart spurs further subtle changes to his physiology: Small protrusions in his back seem to be rhythmically... flapping? ...beneath the straps of his breastplate. Honestly its kind of gross. for .
for .
And for .
Also: What industries or craftsmenpeople do they have here at Varnhold that we don't have at Solasgaard? And vice versa? Zed would like to take the opportunity to propose an exchange of apprentices to the mutual benefit of both cities. We can escort a few promising teenaged boys to Solasgaard and send some of ours forthwith. Zed is smart enough to let someone else pitch the idea to Varn. The phrase "mutual hostages for peace" never crosses his lips. And the Spymaster wouldn't DREAM of asking for regular reports from the Solasgaardian youths selected to return here. /sarc
Vojtek has had an uneasy relationship with trees since he first encountered them, and this puts the final nail in the coffin. He finds himself once again longing for the uninterrupted sight lines of the Tundra at the Edge of the Ice. With a growl of displeasure that intensifies at the abuse Kappi is taking, Vojtek charges! for
(While SOMEONE HEALS KO!!!!)
Lucky searches everything for loot... The bodies, the deck, Slappy's backpack... everything. Then he moves to explore the rest of the ship.
Zed grasps his leader and friend by the shoulder and holds him firmly for a moment until the man calms down a fraction. He advises him, "It is not simply tenacity and vigorous, violent action that will avenge your brother and our friend. A dose of prudence will ensure you live to see him risen and restored. I used to advise another man, a leader like yourself who would often neglect his own needs in seeking justice, vengeance, or fortune. It is smarter to be well-prepared and to give yourself every tactical advantage in order to see your plans to fruition. Heal yourself now, or risk rejoining your brother on the wrong side of the veil..."
Zed's frustration is plain to see. His spells have been useless and his contributionsthus far today have been nil. Unless you count the festive glitter covering the field of combat as a boon and not a sparkling reminder of his humble station among the wizards of golarion. With a sigh he levels his wand and releases a few measly bolts of energy. At least these won't miss, he thinks to himself.
Vojtek's draconic heart quickens with lust for the displayed trove, but his stoicism wins out. Davosh however is having none of it. The wiry and proud barbarian endures the Speaker-With-the-Ancestors' rough handling of Vojtek's hands and crude measurement of the circumference of his head with what could be interpreted as abject terror... Davosh suggests, "This young man needs a Headband of Havoc or perhaps a pair of Gauntlets of the Weaponmaster... Surely you could bring him those! Eh?" Davosh very nearly unleashes The Eye at the blue skinned outsider, so intense is that final 'Eh' and Vojtek visibly relaxes when Davosh's attention swivels away from his person.
Lucky hides himself among the clutter and ( shipsam on deck.
He edges toward the port and creeps toward the stern out of sight.
Vojtek stays alert for any ill-tempered flora. He's quite sure this is yet another reason the tundra is far superior to this place.
Lucky holds his nose and attempts to open up the dead creatures' stomachs with a knife. He searches the contents for treasure.
+ F:+13 /R:+5/W:+5 | +1vCold, +2vTraps, +3vFear/Paralysis/Sleep
Vojtek watches the world grow HUGE. As the walls, combatants, and furniture grow to ten times their original sizes, the barbarian is momentarily disoriented. But, seizing upon his newly diminutive stature as a potential tactical advantage, the barbarian allows the stillness of the hunt to settle over him. For a few moments, he is again a little boy on the ice at the edge of the tundra. His grandfather is crouching beside him, and only the barest whisper of frosty breath escaping from his nose betrays the old man is alive. By staying perfectly still, Vojtek and his grandfather can lull the seals into a trusting and relaxed state before the harpoon flies. Just so, Vojtek holds perfectly still while the giant plant creature before him rages... soon, in the fullness of time, he will be able to strike it down with an unexpected fearsome blow! Grandfather will be proud this day.
Suprise round and Round the first Lucky sprints in the opposite direction and disappears around the corner!
Lucky strenuously objects. "Kilt, remember like 2 minutes ago? Slappy JUST told us: An ahuizotl! They're assho1e-itl. They're evil magical beasts
Lucky's best Slappy imitation is lacking in talent but since he fully committed to the bit, complete with scampering antics and a silly sing-song voice, it somehow works.
"Its a trick. Get an axe." Lucky signals for the party to follow closely with weapons ready!
The party edges towards the entrance to the tunnel.
plus...
Modifiers:
Vojtek nimbly dashes through the grasping vines and starts hacking and slashing at the herbaceous foe with his great axe! for
Lucky suddenly stands upright in the middle of the room and hopes not to startle anyone, "Its OK guys, I'm over here now."
Vojtek attempts to smash the hell out of the door as soon as he hears what he assumes is a call to arms from the ancestors.
(Let's assume he fails)
Lucky instructs everyone to close one eye as they pass this area. He pads along beside his friend the tiger, looking for the next room they can explore.
That's BS. I'm available.
Lucky, at Kiltem's prompting, suddenly realizes he has NO armour on. He asks the group if they would be amenable to him taking the +1 chain shirt. He also asks to carry the Bag if Tricks.
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