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ok, thanks. It's been... 8 months since then and I'm playing 4 different necromancy themed characters on these boards. It's hard to remember all the various rulings. GM, the Hecueva will have a chance to become free on the 2nd day of travel. How would you like to handle that?
Time to need to deal with the issues of having a necromancer in the party. Within the time we are traveling, the Control Undead spell will end and the Hecueva might break free of Ragnar's control. GM, I need you to make some decisions (I don't remember if we've talked about this for this game or not, so forgive me if I'm bringing it up again). 1) Can Ragnar order controlled intelligent undead to voluntarily fail their saves? 2) Can Ragnar cast Control Undead on the Hecueva again, before the duration of the last one ends? 2.a) If so, does making a save against the new control effect end the old one?
Ragnar tentatively layed a hand on his own chest, still not really used to being able to heal himself, or needing to.
"Not sure I can." Ragnar said. "Don't want to. Sometimes just happens."
Ragnar looked around, scanning to see if there was a new spirit in his entourage that he hadn't noticed in all the chaos.
"Like a story," Ragnar rumbled.
To Ragnar, he momentarily stood above his own body, hardly noticing anything had changed. Then he noticed that his friends were administering potions to... him. He blinked in confusion, trying to clear his head, and as he did so his perspective shifted oddly. Ragnar's eyes snapped open and he raised up without an kind of groaning or protesting or pain. It was like a switch had been flipped. He'd been off, briefly. Now he was back on again. He picked up his spear and calmly pulled wooden spikes out of himself, ignoring the blood all over his armor and his furs. "Thank you. I was... more wounded than I... saw." He looked around, getting his bearings again. "What did I miss?"
The potion healed some of his wounds, but Ragnar stayed still on the ground.
Ragnar swayed on his feet, and then fell forward face first into the snow like a felled tree.
Ragnar was peppered with spines. He bellowed like a wounded bear and decided he'd had enough.
He snagged the twig thing with his spear and lifted it, then slammed it back down to the ground.
Ragnar brought his ancient spear down again.
Ragnar lunged forward, thrusting his spear over the head of the earth elemental and toward the twigjack.
"Find it." Ragnar rumbled. His two minions fanned out, sweeping for signs of the vanished foe.
Ragnar did not like the skinny creature's words to Krystae.
Threats. They made decisions so easy. "Kill that creature," he said quietly.
With a powerful leap, Ragnar crossed the water and landed on the opposite bank with a plume of snow.
What's teh big thing behind us on the map?
Ragnar knew better than to stay int he open against a foe they could not see. With a wave of his hand a dense fog rose up from the ground
I will. I have 7 1st level spells a day. That should be enough to heal Sloat to full.
GM, is Sloat injured? Can I heal him during the two days of travel?
Ragnar stoically endured the ghostly pranks. It was still a treat to sleep rather than just die and regain consciousness again for another night of horror. Interrupted sleep was a gift. The children being able to play pranks at all was a gift. He was conflicted. More children. More spirits trapped in his curse. On the other hand, they deserved justice and deserved to help it it's enactment. They also did not deserve to wander in Pharasma's Boneyard for her faulty judgement. The fallen adventurers had been telling him much of the Lady of Bones. Her treatment of Athiests were most concerning of all. What of children too young for worship? Too young for choice? Did they deserve oblivion? No. The children were far better off with him than with Her. He spoke with Sloat as they traveled, learning what he could from the dead priest, trying to get through the emotional abyss of undeath and appeal to the drives of his curse and basic reason. He tried to get his allies to help. Time was running out. Soon it would require the choice of voluntary service or destruction. When the group stopped their march, Ragnar nearly bumped into Havelock, who looked sick. "Watcher, are you ill?"
my control over Sloat will last 4 days. After that I'll have to try to control him again. If he makes his save we will have to destroy him. Since we have 2 days of travel, we have 2 days to try to use Diplomacy to raise his natural disposition away from Hostile. If we can manage that I might be able to convince him to voluntarily fail his save (if he think that it the best way to survive and to fulfill the terms of his mission). Who wants to help me negotiate with an undead priest? I'm rpetty sure it will be a DC 25 check.
This is my favorite scene in the game so far. Ghostly children playing in a Tree Shape'd druid's branches is an incredible image.
Outside, Ragnar could faintly hear Drovitz. The big man's brows knitted. The Bone Lady was not a god Ragnar revered. Her ways and tenants seemed heartless to the very spirits who needed the most help. Still, Ragnar's war had enough lost children already. If there was a way to send these spirits to Pharasma it would certainly be better for them than becoming another ghost in Ragnar's curse. He wondered for a moment if it wouldn't be better to send his own children to Pharasma's Boneyard. Probably, he decided, but he did not know how such a thing could be accomplished. It might be too late for these new children, just because they'd had the bad luck of having come in contact with Ragnar. They might be trapped with him now just like the others. Was that his fate? To be an anchor for every lost soul he came across? A spiritual broom, sweeping up the afterlife's unwanted refuse? "Do you know how the children can be released, Sloat?" he rumbled. Perhaps if there was a way for these children, there might be a way for his own.
"Death takes nearly all things from the living, but not our names. Tombstones. Tales. Memories of those who knew us. All are carried first by our names. You are still Sloat" Ragnar motion for the fallen priest to follow him and went outside so as not to upset the children further.
Ragnar backed up near the entrance, standing against the wall. "I am not them." he said, hoping they understood. He looked to the fallen cleric. "What are you called?"
"I do not know. Spirits are often confused. They may not understand, or they may not remember enough of themselves to speak. Their feelings may be all that is left. I will try." Ragnar approached the spirit children and asked "Can you hear me?"
"You sleep with phantom children near every night." Ragnas said, a bit confused how this place was any different than usual.
That's about how I'd rule things as well. Thanks.
I need a ruleing, GM- Regarding Command Undead, one of the things a necromancer can command is something along the lines of "do not resist me" forcing their minion to lower spell resistance and/or purposefully fail a saving throw. Usually this is used with spells like Magic Jar or Polymorph, so that the undead doesn't resist it's body being changed or taken over. However, it opens the door to an issue I've seen a lot of argument over. If we accept that a Necromancer can force a controlled undead to not resist potentially harmful spells, then they can also force undead not to resist further uses of Command Undead. Basically, every day a necromancer can just say "don't resist me" and reset the timer on their control. Some GM's don't mind this because it means not having to make a
Some GMs feel it's a loophole that makes it so that any intelligent undead that fails a control save once doesn't really have much of a chance of getting free. How would you prefer Command Undead to work in your game? Whatever you decide is fine with me. I just need to know where you stand.
Ragnar nodded slowly. "I too know what it is to endure such a curse." he said. "I seek it's end. You aid yourself by aiding me."
Ragnar stood before the creature under his control. "Tell me your duty. Speak true."
Unless they are the haunting kind.
Ragnar thrust again!
Ragnar said something to the creature he now controlled in his native tongue. It immediately turned on it's brethren.
Then he thrust his spear at the nearest one.
Also resolute in his mission, Ragnar continued trying to overpower the will of the fallen priests.
Ragnar extended a hand and a wave of power washed out from him.
"No... do not run, i can't..." Ragnar's single eye clouded over white. He rushed after the ghosly children and crashed right into the door. Suddenly he didn't seem to be seeing the mortal world much. "...Οχι ξανά."
Ragnar began to walk in the direction he had heard children.
Ragnar looked confused. He slowly scanned his surroundings, looking mostly at empty space and counting under his breath. After a few moments he sighed and looked frustrated, starting over. "Stop, please." He said after a few moments, starting over again. "Where is Kaia?" he asked after a few moments."[/b] he rolled his eyes. "Stop hiding inside Havelock. It is rude." "Alright, now hush for a moment. Do you hear that? Yes. Is that any of you? Alright, thank you." He looked out in the distance. "There are children. That way."
Ragnar waled out into the clearing with a smile on his face. It had been a long time since he had felt the warmth of the sun. "Trap or no, this good."
Ragnar trudged implacably at the back of the group, his capricious undead companion with him again. "We are too fearful." he rumbled. "We thought the woman who needed help was a trap also."
Ragnar hesitated for only a moment before handing her his axe. He was unwilling to part with his father's spear.
"And I you." Ragnar replied. "The woman. Did her mate live?"
"Not others. Only mine." Ragnar said. "That..." he gestured to where the fungus had wrapped around his arm. "...made me want to. Made me want kill you all. Was not sure if I had."
Ragnar woke up bewildered. He didn't sleep much anymore, and had not dreamed in literal ages. He remembered what it was like to wake up with nightmares when he was a child so very, very long ago. It felt just like this. Like he had experienced something he was not mentally equipped to handle. Something that seemed real, but that he hoped was not. He looked down at his wounds, remembering the horrors of attacking his friends, and worse, how it felt to want to. All the fragments fit together one after another, gaps filling, each worse than the last. He looked around at everyone and squinted, trying to see something. After a moment he shook his head as though trying to shake something off. He scowled in frustration. He reached out and gently touched Warden and Fang. Then he stood up and slowly made his way around the group, resting his massive hand on one shoulder after another, seeming a bit more relieved every time. When he was finished he hung his head. "I remember. I am sorry."
Ragnar's axe lay on the ground where it had fallen when the big man had been disarmed...
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