Sir Rollynd's page

”We won’t. My legs just don’t move fast enough. We might be able to fight them off but can’t take that chance. In Lastwall, I was arrogant, took on a risky foe out of pride, and when the battle was lost, I retreated while my men were still trapped, fighting, and dying. The Church would have executed me then and there, except Iomedae had clearly judged me and had not rejected me. So I was sent to Absalom, where I met you and you gave me this chance at redemption. This is clearly what Iomedae kept me for: to buy time for your escape here, now. Sir Geoffrey’s prophecy said four warriors: I thought it strange that there were six of us, not four, but now it makes sense. Go, Sir Edward. Restore Aroden, fight the evil in the Cathedral, whatever it is you’re supposed to do. You’ve given me the chance to die with honour, and I thank you for it.”

With that, the halfling turns and runs towards the approaching dozen-plus soldiers chasing you, charging in for one last stand.

”That armour will weigh you down. Can it fit in Ty and Morgana’s pack?”

Does Ty want to take the minute to grab the mule back cords from Valla’s body?

Will: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

"Aaargh!" he cries out in pain. "Where is she?"

He lays hands on himself, returning 1d6 ⇒ 2 points of damage, then readies a move for when somebody calls out a direction.

"So when did you turn traitor, Valla? When did you fall for Masoumi's racist lies?"

Sir Rollynd drops down to his knees in awe.

"The Knight of Ozem, and...and the bloodstone."

Sir Rollynd also retreats, putting his sword away and readying his sling.

"To be fair, if a bloodstone of Arazni is in there, a few burning webs aren't going to hurt it, but there could be flammable things that would help. Discarded journal, old map somehow not rotted away, etc., that would be a shame to burn up. If we are methodical about our cutting and work together, we should be safe enough."

Sir Rollynd scampers clear of the weakened stone, then pulls a length of silk rope from his pack. ”Loop it around your shoulders and under your arms, if you can.”

Imagine somebody in a ship down below, looking up to see this pair of legs flailing away under the Arch... tee hee!!!

"As important as the rule of law is, we cannot risk alerting the Chelish authorities to our purpose here. If they learn that we have the cloak it will be gone. If they learn we seek a bloodstone they will take it. If we start asking the owner of this establishment for permission to root through his cellar looking for an ancient secret passage into a catacomb of treasure, what response do you expect? I would not countenance any damage to this merchant's property, of course, but if Ty is able to gain access for us without destroying anything, we look around and leave one way or the other, the sin should be minimal."

Sir Rollynd chuckles. ”Ty’s idea is good, that we don’t all go out asking about our target at once, however, we seem in danger of doing just that. All of us want to believe our own group of contacts is going to have the answers we need, but we need to be objective about this, and pick a group that is most likely to know of this place. The map is old—from another time—and the place we want to find may very well not exist anymore.”

”How about a compromise?” Sir Rollynd suggests. ”Claes is only three days behind us, and there was a magistrate there. We take them there, present our evidence, and leave it in the law’s hands.”

”So your concern is that as the victim, you can’t be impartial to dispense justice?”

”Sir Edward, you said some wise things to me so let me return the favour. If this were a court of law, there would be little doubt of their verdict. We are innocent, and these four tracked us down with the intent of murder and robbery and attacked us. If there were a sheriff and magistrate here, they would have heard the evidence, reached at the verdict and sentenced death. If your only qualm is the absence of the formal rigmarole, what is that really compared with perhaps thwarting the task before us? You know very well that a travelling cleric or warrior of Iomedae can easily find themselves pressed into service by a small village council to act as magistrate when needs be. How is this different?”

Earlier, Sir Rollynd nods along at Edward’s paladin-to-paladin discussion, but it doesn’t seem to make him feel much better. In reality, Edward understands what’s likely eating at the halfling: he knows full well he was just a victim of magic and that the fear wasn’t real, but at the same time is ashamed he gave in to that fear.

"Sure, sure, that's all true, but to run away in fear..." he pauses, shaking his head.

Did you wish to save the other two attackers, or let them bleed into the dirt (or finish them off)?

Sir Rollynd presents himself to the group. ”I have no words to express the totality of my shame. I know you will likely try to say it wasn’t my fault and the overwhelming evil of that servant of darkness was to blame for my vulnerability, but I cannot allow that as an excuse. If you will forgive me, I will swear never to fail you again in this quest.”

”Agreed. This whole plan seems to have been put in place to either kill Valla or steal the cloak. They won’t put that much effort in without trying again. I’d rather it be on our terms.”

Valla comes to after the third healing wave. Other waves of healing flow through her as Sir Rollynd adds his own touch.

Lay on Hands: 1d6 ⇒ 1
Lay on Hands: 1d6 ⇒ 3
Lay on Hands: 1d6 ⇒ 1
Lay on Hands: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Apparently, Sir Rollynd is a terrible healer!

Sir Rollynd shrugs. ”As you wish. On an unrelated matter, have you any interest in entering this little competition tomorrow with the farm boys we brought? Teams of four fighters with non-lethal practice swords and no offensive magic, all in a big ‘arena’ of sorts. Last team standing wins the big 100 gp prize.”

”One cannot go about assuming every newly-met stranger is a threat, however, if you’re so worried...” the halfling jumps up and slips closer to the dancing pair, though Rena seems to have hurt herself slightly. He shakes his head. ”I don’t detect any evil on her aura. Not conclusive, of course. Now where have their guards gone? Sir Edward, why not track them down and sense their auras?”

”Whybdoes he need to know anything about our mission to the Arch at all? You told him you wanted to investigate if there was a connection between Masoumi and the light. Doesn’t look like it. Looks like somebody hid a map of the inner passages of the Arch of Aroden within the Arch’s keystone centuries ago. Codwin is not going to muster his forces and march on Cheliax for this: it would be war and Cheliax would be totally within its rights to retaliate. I would suggest we make our own copy of this map before taking it to him in case he insists that it is some Andoran national treasure, but other than that, I think you’re making things out to be way more complicated than they likely are. Again.”

”Perhaps it may connect with my vision.”

Seeing questioning glances from the clerics, Sir Rollynd explains his vision concerning the Bloodstones of Arazni. Genedair whistles appreciatively, though Valla seems perplexed by the notion.

”The Slaverun?” Sir Rollynd interjects. ”The Knights knew it well, as it was a favoured road of travel for many of our members in years gone by.”

”You know, not many folks realize the skill that goes into a properly-laid fire.”

”You think too little of yourself, Sir Edward. A team member’s contribution can be measured in far more ways than the amount of bone dust on his sword.”

Sir Rollynd falls down to his knees, pulling off his helm, revealing a sweaty-haired, late 30s halfling with several battle scars across his face. He looks up at you with a mixed expression of uncertainty and wariness. ”That voice is familiar to me: I heard it once in a dream. A dream I had the night before I first encountered you a the Seventh Church. I am not accustomed to sharing her Lady’s revelations with outsiders, but the vision I received concerns you, as you are part of it. Perhaps you know something of our history – that is, the history of the Knights of Ozem? The Inheritor herself was once numbered amongst our ranks. While she lived as a mortal, and led my order, the Knights of Ozem fought the undead minions of the Whispering Tyrant – and they revered Arazni, the herald of Aroden, as their patron saint.”

”Arazni lead the Knights against the undead hordes for five years before she herself was slain. It was a terrible defeat, and a terrible time for the order, but Iomedae showed her true potential when she rallied the Knights to throw back the Tyrant’s forces, and personally recovered Arazni’s body, which the Knights laid to rest.”

”After Tar-Baphon was imprisoned, and the Knights founded Lastwall to watch over Gallowspire, they started to get restless. Defeating the Tyrant was a major deal, and the Knights at the time were spoiling for another victory, so they went after another undead target: the lich-king Geb. That offensive did not go well, and not only did Geb easily repel the Knights, the lich sent his forces to steal Arazni’s body, to teach the over-confident Knights a lesson. To further add salt to the wounds, he animated her body as a lich and set her to rule Geb in his stead while he remained behind the scenes. She still rules in Geb, known as the Harlot Queen.”

”Desperate to reclaim what honour the Knights of Ozem had left, a group of them, under the command of Sir Patens Moore, infiltrated Geb. They were unable to slay either lich, but they did retrieve four artefacts: canopic jars containing some of Arazni’s organs that had been created in Geb’s profane re-animation process. These artefacts contain fragments of the divinity of Arazni, Arazni before she became the abomination Geb created. It is believed that these artefacts could be used to destroy her, possibly Geb as well. The two tried to track the Knights, but failed. They’ve tried to find the artefacts, but failed. Geb’s forces attacked Lastwall, but couldn’t find the artefacts for the simple reason that they never made it back. Even we don’t know where they are. Many a Knight of Ozem has quested across the world looking for the Bloodstones (as they’ve come to be called), and many a crusade was launched, but to no avail.”

”But why am I telling you all of this? The morning the new god arose, I was deep in prayer, and I received a vision from the Inheritor. It was an image of the four of you, your faces perfectly clear to me, and I also saw a jar, sealed and made of stone. No description has ever reached us, but I was certain that it was one of the Bloodstones of Arazni, and I still am. I believe you are to find one of the Bloodstones, perhaps all of them. I didn’t believe it when I first saw you, but now, here you are, with the Cloak of the Inheritor in your hands.” The halfling pauses to reach a hand reverently out towards the garment, but he withdraws it quickly. ”I did not believe when my Lady first spoke to me, but now I do. That crisis of faith is of my concern, and something with which I must wrestle, but if you will overlook it, I will swear whichever oath you would have of me, save that it does not go against my Lady Iomedae in any way, to serve and protect you in this most holy of quests.”

AoO: 1d20 + 8 + 1 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 8 + 1 + 3 = 20

Attack: 1d20 + 8 + 1 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 8 + 1 + 3 = 27
Damage!: 1d6 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 3 + 2 = 9

The halfling’s sword finds an opening.

Attack: 1d20 + 8 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 8 + 3 = 23

Sir Rollynd continues to dent his sword on the armour.

Richard is left to go.

AoO: 1d20 + 8 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 8 + 3 = 20

AoO: 1d20 + 8 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 8 + 3 = 16

Sir Rollynd clatters his sword uselessly against Kreel’s armour.

Sir Rollynd continues his valiant efforts, to little effect.

Attack: 1d20 + 8 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 8 + 3 = 17

AC 25, so no it just missed.

Sir Rollynd stabs forward also, similarly failing to inflict any damage.

Attack: 1d20 + 8 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 8 + 3 = 20

Sir Rollynd also activated his smite evil and brings his sword crashing through next to Edward’s.

Attack: 1d20 + 8 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 8 + 3 = 28
Damage: 1d6 + 3 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 3 + 4 = 11

Fort Save: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26
Fort Save: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17

Sir Rollynd thrusts his sword around the corner.

Attack: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

He almost brings down the creature.

Everybody is up, though I’m awaiting clarification on Ty’s round 1 action.

”No, it’s two creatures of low to middling power radiating evil auras from behind the stairwell.”

Sir Rollynd draws his sword and readies his shield. ”There is evil in there,” he says grimly.

”Don’t confuse pragmatism with civility. Those devils were no match for us, though their poisons could have debilitated us somewhat, and this close to freedom, they weren’t going to risk death to give in to their natures. Still, it stings somewhat to allow two spawn of Hell to roam free, but they’re just a tiny drop from a very big ocean.”

Sir Rollynd comes to under Richard’s ministrations and smiles wanly up at you. ”I hope you will forgive me for taking my ease when there’s work to be done. Now, has anyone seen my jawbone?”

Sir Rollynd slashes at the pillow on Richard again.

Attack: 1d20 + 8 - 1 ⇒ (14) + 8 - 1 = 21
Damage: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

The pillow is destroyed. Richard can now see and breathe. Only two pillows left, one of them stuck to Conri’s face.

Know Religion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

Attack: 1d20 + 8 - 1 ⇒ (7) + 8 - 1 = 14
Damage: 1d6 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 3 + 2 = 7

Sir Rollynd’s blade expertly shreds the pillow smothering Richard.

”This is a haunt. Can you do something about it?”

4 down; 6 to go.

Sir Rollynd fumbles his sword out of its sheathe and slashes at the pillow on his face.

Miss Chance: 1d100 ⇒ 51
Attack: 1d20 + 8 - 2 ⇒ (6) + 8 - 2 = 12
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

The halfling shreds his pillow, scattering feathers everywhere. Even as they rain down, another nearby pillow begins to twitch, ready to replace it in battle. It looks like there are ten pillows (now nine) in total.

Sir Rollynd draws his sword, places it point down on the ground in front of you, drops to one knee, and swears, ”In Iomedae’s Name, I swear to aid your quest, whatever it may be, to the fullest of my ability, sharing what must be shared, and holding secret what must be secret. My sword is yours, my blood is yours, my honour is yours. May the Inheritor’s Grace fade from me forever should I withhold any of those three until this quest is complete.”

Edward is pretty sure that Sir Rollynd just staked his paladinhood and place in Iomedae’s Court after death on the fulfillment of this oath.

”Axe, actually.”

Sir Rollynd idly kicks a bit of debris across the room. ”I wasn’t following them. I was tracking you from this morning. I picked up your trail, you stopped at some other set of towers yesterday where you fought a bunch of guys—I’m guessing their friends—then headed here. It wasn’t long until I picked up their trail, too. They followed you here and set an ambush up for you. What I can’t figure out is if this was their hideout of those other towers. We’ve known Scar Blade was working out of some old siege towers, but I never would have guessed it was out of this one. Nobody’s supposed to be able to get in there, but clearly you did. I assumed Genedair had decided I’d failed at this assignment too and handed it off to you four, but just didn’t have the heart to tell me. Looks like I was right; I guess my failure is now complete. I am glad that somebody was able to deal with this menace, even if it wasn’t me.”

Sir Rolland glances down at Scar Blade. ”I see you got him for me. I appreciate that. I’ve been hunting this crew for weeks now, hoping for a little...well, we got him now. Was he holed up in here, or did you folks make this artistic and fashionable entrance?”

Sir Rolland pauses like he’s going to say something else, but he shakes his head and departs with all normal pleasantries.

”No special assistance needed, but thank you. I cut my teeth repelling demonic raiding parties in Mendev, so an extra-ugly half-orc shouldn’t be a problem. Be warned though, if your post-shopping adventures take you into the Cairnlands. Scarface and other brigand bands have taken to setting up hideouts in some of the abandoned siege towers. There was an earthquake out there this morning, also, so some of the rickety ones might be even more precarious.”

”Ah, yes, the marketplace can certainly be an adventure...especially today. As for this scratch, don’t trouble yourself. Just a little run-in with Scarface’s band of brigands out in the Cairnlands. If I keep chipping away at his men, eventually that scum will have to show himself.”

As your group makes its exit out the main entrance of the Church, a Halfling in full plate mail, and bearing the symbols of Iomedae, strides up the front steps. He stops short upon seeing you and outright shock fills his features, which he quickly covers over with a forced smile.

"Good morning, friends. The blessings of Iomedae be upon you all this day. I am Sir Rollynd Thrush, a Knight of Ozem. You have the look of a group about to set out on a grand adventure. To where do you journey?"

Again, Edward can attempt those checks with a +10 bonus, and can try them untrained, as the rumours contained within are much more likely to be told around the Iomedean water coolers.

"Wood needs to be dry, too," Sir Rollynd continues.

Sir Rollynd glances up as Ty joins him at the fireplace. After several moments of silence, he casually remarks, "You know, many people don't realize the skill involved in laying a truly effective fire."

"Certainly possible that someone there knows more. Again, Valla is the person to ask. Nobody at Lastwall knows anything I haven't already told you. If the Knights there ever had a single clue about the Bloodstones, they'd be off on a crusade."