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![]() Hi guys....hello again BG! I'm not going to upset the balance you guys have been running with, it seems to have worked so far. Feel free to re-gig , re-build as needed. Looks like your Herbalism is just crafting re-skinned. I don't see anything wrong with it...yet :) I'll be reading over the gameplay and discussion over the next week. Maybe looking to startup again by the end of next week, if all goes well. Al ![]()
Half-orc unchained rogue (skulking slayer,scout) 3 HP:27/27 AC: 16 / 13 / 13 Init:+2 Perception: +6 F+3 R+5 W+2 Darkvision 60ft
![]() Blocked by Orchid, Shunsen decided to take the initiative. With careful timing, she slides up beside Orchid, back-to-back, and stepping up onto the nearby parapet, launches herself over the head of the astonished Corbie.... Acrobatic. DC 14: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22 ... landing behind the bird creature, lashing out with her weapon as soon as she hits solid ground! Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 LOL...can't get two good rolls in a row!
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![]() As Joanna whispers in Ameiko's ear, the tavern owner initially straightens to look her friend in the eye, and Joanna is sure that she was going to stubbornly refuse, but then a sudden welling of tears appeared in both eyes and with a swift nod and wan smile, Ameiko retreats to the back rooms. However, she does pause and nod her thanks to Bulvarius and Kemras and any others who came to her defense. A number of regulars approach and congratulate the group for standing up to Lord Kaijistu, "That was well said! , "You told him...here have a drink!" , "That put him in his place, it did!!" ![]()
![]() Joanna and Bulvarius:
The Foxgloves are a very minor noble house out of Magnimar with some quite successful merchant activities. Probably has had some dealings with Whitehall Mercantile Company. Lord Kaijitsu sneers as Joanna speaks, about to refute her statement. His verbal volley is interrupted, however, by Bulvarius and is non too subtle theat. The color drains from Lord Kaijitsu's face, his mouth opens , once, twice as he tries to find a word to say in the face of Bulvarius' menacing warning. Finally , he musters whatever courage he has to shriek, "You dare! Why , if I were a younger man!" he begins to sputter and mutter, his eyes wide with fear. At that moment, Ameiko returns, a ladel dripping with soup in her hand, "What's all the ruckus?" she demands, then sees her father. Lord Kaijistu sees his daugher, and with a wary glance at Bulvarius, runs up to her , yelling in his native tongue, Ameiko yelling back in kind. Minikian:
"Enough of your foolishness....I'm moving the family back to Magnimar and you're coming with me. This attack proves this town isn't safe!" "I'm not going anywhere, this is my home!" "Home? Home is where your family is....with me! You'll abandon your little project here and do your duty to me ! " "I won't!!! Now leave me alone....leave my inn...right now! I hate you you old dried up, honorless, bitter old man!" The go back and forth, getting louder , until Ameiko yells at him , right in his face! Enraged, Ameiko's father attempts to grab her by her hair, but she easily dodges and brains him with her soupy ladel, spattering fish stock and potoatoes all over his hair and outfit. Amazed by her act of defiance, Lord Kaijistu sputters for a moment, the with a cold tone, says "You're a dead to me as your mother." He then turn and leaves the inn swiftly. A sniff from Ameiko brings attention back to her, as she successfully prevents herself from tearing up. She picks up the ladle, and picks a hair out of the mess and says, "I'll need a well-cleaned ladel now, since jackass stew isn't on the menu." ![]()
![]() Kemras at the Curious Goblin:
The old man, his arms full of books and parchments he just picked up off the floor, he exclaims, "They tried! Didn't they Isolari?" questioning the less older man tiding up a table full of books nearby. With a smile, the man, Isolari nods, "Our dear friend, Sabyl " he says, indicating the young woman at the far end of the room using a broom to sweep up some debris, " happened to be in the back room when the goblins tried to fire the place. She took care of them!" he says proudly. The young woman smiles but offers no comment. The older man heaves his armload of writings onto the table in front of him, then sticks out his hand in greeting, "Brodert Quink, at your service!"
After a day of relaxing and tending to other affairs, the group finds themselves back at the Rusty Dragon, the guests of a now absent Lord Foxglove. He has laid out a feast of wild boar, just caught that day, for the group. In a letter left with Ameiko, he declares, My dearest friends and benefactors, and most beautiful Sara, matters of import call me back to Magnimmar, but I could not leave without a small token of my respect and admiration. Feast, drink, enjoy your victory! Should you have cause to visit Magnimmar please visit me at my home. On the table at each of your place settings is a small bag containing 50gp! "Well, you certainly made an impression on Lord Foxglove, he couldn't stop talking about you all...especially you Sara!" Ameiko jests as she fills your wine glasses, "Your food and drink is on the Lord's tab this evening!" It is then that the tavern's door slams open and a local dignitary enters in a rage, Longjiku Kaijitsu, Ameiko's father. Minkaian:
"Where the hell is my daughter?" The other regulars of the tavern all grow quiet as Longjiku stands, seething, in the doorway, looking around for Ameiko. Ameiko for her part, having filled your wineglasses, had retreated to the back rooms. Striding forwards, Longjiku scans the room, his eyes finally settling your group. Rushing forward, he looms over your feast, his eyes slitted, lips twisted into a derisive sneer, "Ah...our 'heroes' having their well deserved feast! he spits out, "Ha! Had not your ill-advised antics endangered the fine townsfolk, I'm sure the city guard...trained professionals all...would have finished their job that much more quickly!" ![]()
![]() The Bakery/Mill-House Eireachdail follows the conversation, eyes moving from speaker to speaker, not willing to interject himself, so occupied was he in discovering all of the wonderful flavours offered by Jenneleth's talented Mother. Finally, he pauses, then takes a deep ,draught of wine ,offers a polite burp into his closed fist, then declares, "A feast fit for a king, Madam Parella ! If yon Haldelar hadn't already snapped you up, why I'd be on bended knee in an instant!" He holds his half-drunk wine goblet aloft, "A cheer for Dear Parella, a most welcome respite from the dust of the road! Huzzah! " ![]()
![]() Well versed in dealing with husbands, brothers and fathers who may question his motives, Eireachdail smoothly disengages his hand from Jenneleth's arm, and holds his arms out to the side, a picture of innocence, exclaiming, "Danger lurks on the roads these days , my good man, and my fellows and I sent them on their way to the hereafter and Garyld's gaol...er, out-gaol....whatever! The constable has the ringleader and accomplice in custody! Your daughter was ever in safe hands , whatever evil machinations deigned to assail us!" Then he executes a perfect , courtly bow to Haldelar and then to Parella , "Allow me to introduce myself, Eireachdeail ap Leomhann, troubador, adventurer, scholar....at your service!" ![]()
Half-orc unchained rogue (skulking slayer,scout) 3 HP:27/27 AC: 16 / 13 / 13 Init:+2 Perception: +6 F+3 R+5 W+2 Darkvision 60ft
![]() When Shunsen realized the others will let you keep Whispering Strike, tears well up in her eyes, and she give each of her friends a big, almost painful, hug. Later, she visits her Mother and relates her experiences in the swamp, dejectedly re-living her failures in combat. Her Mother, ever ready with something wise to say , told her "Mistakes and failures are the road to Mastery, each a lesson to learn by". Nodding, Shunsen tried to put her insecurities aside and accept her Mother's advise. Then, Shunsen excitedly revealed the things they found regarding Ameiko and the Kaijustu family. Her Mother nodded thoughtfully at the news, smiling and reminding Shunsen of her previous words about Fate taking her away. Later after Ameiko's decision... Having morning tea with her Mother, Shunsen revealed Ameiko's decision to travel to Brinewall, and her decision to accompany her. Somehow, her Mother managed not to look too smug, but nodded and said that they would train that afternoon. Then, her Mother put Shunsen through her paces with a series of increasingly difficult exercises. There was something different in her Mother's instructions this day, however, an urgency that had been missing before. Leaving Shunsen , sweating and panting on the exercise floor, her Mother left for a few moments, before returning with a oil , leather folio. It was constructed to prevent even the most persistent of moisture from entering. "These will guide your instruction while you are away. I predict it may be some time before you return." her Mother said softly, "I wish we had more time, but....Fate.". Placing the folio in Shunsen's hands, and laying her own over those of her daughter, Shunsen's Mother said, "You will know when you are ready. At that time, open this and start with the first parchment. Do not continue to the next until you feel in here, she says, holding a hand over Shunsen's heart, "that you are ready. Trust in the training I've already given you...it will guide you. " Then gathering her daughter into a warm embrace, a single tear descending her cheek, "Go now, prepare with Ameiko and your friends..." With tears in her own eyes, Shunsen re-embraced her Mother and gather her gear left to help prepare the caravan for the journey to Brinewall. ![]()
![]() The moonflower sways and thrashes under the groups onslaught, a huge crater in it's side opened up by Samuel's volley! Copious torrents of sap and other plant-fluids pour out onto the jungle floor and with a groan of straining bark and xylem the moonflower topples over, disappearing into the overgrown foliage of the jungle floor. Silence returns to the forest, as the booming echo from Samuel's musket slowly fades away. ![]()
![]() combat Over! With both cold-hearted efficiency and panic-fuels necessity, Bulvarius and Sara take down the two remaining goblins, their shrieks of pain subsiding to mere whimpers as their life-blood seeps away. As the blood rushing through your ears subsides, everyone notices what Kemras has...the sounds of combat from near and far have ceased, replaced with the shouts of villagers putting out fires, and the occasional sound of people crying out in pain or saddness. From behind the nearby barrel, the man who was accosted, peeks out and seeing the goblins all slain, stands with a weak smile on his face, "Superb....simply superb! You all saved me....I was done for!" he exclaims dramatically, dabbing at his eyes with a silken kerchief. He steps out and pats Bulvarius on the shoulder, "Well done, my man! Well done!". But then walks right by the large soldier, and walks right up to Sara, before she has a chance to check on her friend Joanna. Reaching out, the man grasps Sara's hand and bending low, brings it to his lips for a chaste kiss. Looking up, he says softly, "Aldern Foxglove....at your service, my beautiful champion!" GMs screen: 1d2 ⇒ 2 ![]()
![]() Hûƞidark wrote:
Me too! Love the callback to one of the best of the classic DND artists....still alive today apparently! Ah...the works of Mr's Otus, Sutherland, LaForce, Dee and Holloway , and others really brought my early RPG experiences to life! ![]()
![]() Waves at scranford and Black Dow. I knew you two would most likely respond :) Wasn't sure how many others of the WFRP diehards were still around. Karma, from my experience there's not a whole lot of difference between 2nd and 4th, except 4th introduces some newer mechanics such as the between adventures optional rules. They also made advancements more complicated, in my opinion. But, my preference for 2nd edition really comes down to the feel of the older rules....I like them better! :) Critzible, you're more than welcome. In case you're not too familiar with the Warhammer system, it's grimdark low fantasy. Characters have careers instead of classes. Characters don't level up, they advance/increase their stats/skills. It's a different feel from dnd or pathfinder.
20ft fall in DnD/Pathfinder, after about 4th or 5th level: I can take it (either enough HP, or some skill can mitigate it). 20ft fall in WH, with 2000+XP: Hmm . . . that could break a leg, who's got the rope and can tie knots? No one? Let's find another way down . . . Four is enough for a campaign, I think, if you're all willing. If anyone needs access to the core rule book, PM me and I'll send you a link. ![]()
![]() GM Spazmodeus wrote:
Woohoo, Bulvarius is back! ![]()
![]() Eireachdail claps his hands as he sees that all of the bandits have been either slain or subdued, "Ah, a battle for the ages! Well done, chaps...and er....lady? " he says, looking meaningfully at the newly exposed Ping. He smiles at her reassuringly, then turns to help with divesting the bandits of their valuables. He then walks over to the talkative bandit, Marko and get very close to him, eye to eye, "In my land, laddee, you'd be screaming for yer momma. We don't take kindly to bandits. " he growls menacingly, then smiles, "But, these are civilized lands..I'm sure your magistrate will sort you out!" Clapping the man on the shoulder, he trots over to where Jenneleth still lies senseless, asking Ping, "How is she, old man?" ![]()
![]() Eireachdail frowns at Zeebo's new personality, then smiles as he/she flings magic around and then unceremoniously dispatches one of the unconscious bandits, "I like this new you, old man!" he declares. He then joins in the necessary and calmly slits the throat of the other unconscious bandit. Then his face no longer smiling, looks up to see where that Carlanis has gotten to. ![]()
![]() Peeking over the tree trunk, Eireachdail hears a feminine sound of worry and fear from one side. Thinking it was Jenneleth he leans over to provide some encouragement only to find himself face to face with Zeebo! A 'what-the-hell' expression comes over his face, and something was about to fly from his lips when the betrayal occurs. "Betrayal, most foul, Indeed! Carlanis ! Franz! Culk! Marco! All of your names will be known across the land for your betrayal this day! Mark my words! " Eireachdail shouts, drawing his blade and chopping at the man that dared harm fair Jenneleth. ATT vs Franz: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (17) + 0 = 17
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![]() Eireachdail nods to Jenneleth, muttering "whatever happens stay by the donkey..." He strides a few paces forward, declaring, "Ah, indeed we almost fell prey ourselves to the foul purveyors of the necromantic arts! Felled the foul necromancer and his skeletal minions, didn't we lads? " he asks his friends loudly, hoping this claim ( true as it was ) may make the possible bandits hesitate before taking them on. Intimidate:CON: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (2) + 0 = 2 ![]()
Half-orc unchained rogue (skulking slayer,scout) 3 HP:27/27 AC: 16 / 13 / 13 Init:+2 Perception: +6 F+3 R+5 W+2 Darkvision 60ft
![]() Shunsen kissed her mother on the cheek and left the small cottage they shared on the outskirts of the Kaijustsu estate. She pauses a moment in the garden , admiring the Minkai way of forming the area around a home to be in harmony with nature. Her eyes settle on the carefully topiaried bushes, then the calm, contemplative rock garden, and sighs allowing the cool breeze to her brown. Her mother had been recently putting Shunsen through more strenous routines in her dance instruction, and she could feel it in her whole body. She shook her head, that even at her age, her mother could perform all of the routines with nary a modicum of discomfort! With rueful shake of her head, Shunsen set off down the path to Sandpoint, emerging from the trees at Boggy creek and crossing the wood bridge there. Pausing, she noticed that the ship that had brought her Riddleport 'friend' had departed in the night, hoping that they had gone as well.
She took an immediate right onto River Street, avoiding the Market Street, and the throng of people there. Let likely to run into someone from her past. Another left on Mud Lane soon brought her to the back door of the Rusty Dragon. As she passed by the kitchen on the way to the common room, a great crash of dishes came from ahead. Shaking her head with a smile, Shunsen muttered, "Ah...not again Flori.". Her assumption proved correct as she was rewarded with the scene of Orchid and Flori cleaning up, giving Ameiko behind the bar a smile as she takes the offered towel. Walking over , she then offers it to the drenched Cailyn. Smiling, she says to the kneeling Flori, "Good thing those were mostly sturdy tankards, Flori, else Ameiko might have needs to reopen the glassworks!" ---Later ---- Shunsen sits to one side of the room, listening to the good Sheriff explain the bounty. At every mention of goblin, she can feel and sometimes see the narrowed gaze of some of the townsfolk settle on her with her green skin. Even thought she's lived her most of her life, can't sway some people's prejudices. Once Sheriff Hemlock finishes and indicates the meeting room, Shunsen nods to herself, settles her empty tankard on the table and walks directly to the room and walks inside... ![]()
![]() Eireachdail recoils in mock indignation, clasping his hands in front of this heart, his face a vision of outrage. Then, his easy smile return as he pats Zeebo quite gently on the shoulder, having learnt his lesson the night before! "Fear not, my wizened friend! My breath will be as the morning dew once I've broken my fast!" he declares, looking about for the innkeeper or barmaid. Spying either, the calls out, "Dearest! Did the good friar's coin extend to our morning repast?" he asks, his stomach grumbling it protest of being denied sustenance for the night. ![]()
![]() Hey guys, As you'll notice, I've added a status tracker to my last combat post.
I'll do my best to keep it updated with your hp and ac and conditions/buffs etc but let me know if I miss anything. For the NPC stats, HP and AC will start with ??. As a monster/npc takes damage, it'll be recorded. If it's recorded with a ?, such as 20?, that means some sort of DR/resistance is involved and not all of the recorded damage got through. AC will get updated with the lowest die roll to hit.
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![]() Eireachdail put the good Friar's coin to good use, eating and drinking and singing until the wee hours. Somehow , he ended up not in the purchased room, but up in the hayloft of the barn. Shaking straw out of his hair and clothes as he descended ,trying to remember anything in particular about the previous evening's events. Chuckling and wincing a bit in the bright morning night, he gave up, not really caring if he'd slept alone. Emerging into the common room, spying his companions from the journey here ,and new companions from the night before. "Good day, All!" he called out cheerfully, "Ah, a fabulous morning for another journey!". He snatches a flagon from a nearby table, and with nary a cautious sniff, downs the contents....warm, very warm , stale beer. With a smack of his lips and a shake of his head, he smiles, feeling better already! Seeing his new friend Ulfbrecht chatting with the aelf, he approaches, "Morning! My apologies, I meant no disrespect in not providing you with a Dwarfish song, last night! I promise to make amends during out journey together!" he declares, then looking sideways at Elyan, "I'll trot out a few Elvish ditties I ken as well!" ![]()
![]() Gm's Screen:
1d20 ⇒ 6 With a very human-like movement of it's trunk and branches, the treant's 'shoulders' seem to slump as it listens to Letitia, Ashling and Samuel. "No way out...no exit...at least for me!" it says, then stomps away toward the far edge of the clearing. The trees behind stop moving, and in two and threes the trees move out its way. After about 15 feet, the treant stops then bangs it's branches against a wall that appears to be hidden by an illusion of a forest continuing into the distance. Each blow caused the illusion to ripple, revealing a rough , brick wall, curving off to the left and right. Turning back, the treant says, "This is a circular prison, wrought by the Witch-B~#!~! And now you are trapped, with me!" You successfully brought the treant's attitude to you to Friendly, but it's madness is still lying under the surface. ![]()
![]() As Sara tries to move through the crowd towards the stage, her cousin, the Mayor sees her and smiling, motions Sara to return to her friends, signaling that her assistance wasn't needed. On the stage the various dignitaries who spoke earlier in the day, huddle together for a few moments. Father Zantus raises his head and checked the sky, nodding as the sun was descending below the trees in the West. He turns back to the conversation. The hubbub of the festival mutes somewhat as the dignitaries continue their conversation, the festival-goers turning to await the next pronouncement. Old Robbik stops as Bulvarius presses the coin into his hand, smiling wryly, "Many thanks, boy! I'll be in the Hagfish if you want to continue our talk...". Holding the coin up in his hand, he hurries out of the square. ![]()
![]() I'll move things along. I'll assume everyone heals up etc. Callix if you want to cast any divination spells , let me know and I'll let you know what you discover, if anything! :) Casting the keys into the cauldron, Letitia gives the contents a stir and the key slowly sink out of sight. The liquid in the cauldron bubbles and heaves, sparks of multicolored light emanates from within. After a few moments, the liquid begins to swirl...a swirl that begins to edge out into the surrounding space, eventually causing the entire room to swirl about your feet. Though disorientated, your feet still stand upon solid ground, but that ground shifts and swirls, sometimes cobbles, sometimes wood, then tile, then dirt. The walls of the room flicker and tilt, as if a hundred different rooms were present in the same space. Off to one side, completely unaffected by the cauldron, the house-spirit leans on her broom, giving you a wave. A wave goodbye...or hello? Suddenly with a violent wrench of your surroundings the room stops it's chaotic change! The wooden walls of the hut have disappeared, replaced by large windows set in delicate iron traceries that look out in all directions over a wide, gloomy garden. Thick clouds hang unnaturally low over overgrown stands of trees, barren flower beds, and white pebble paths. The sky and distant landscape seem peculiarly artificial, almost as if they were part of a faded and blurry watercolor painting. A large iron cauldron sits atop a round, marble-topped table surrounded by four white wooden chairs in the center of this circular room. A set of framed stained-glass doors to the south provide the only exit. ![]()
![]() Eireachdail frowns a little after the hoped-for confrontation fizzles out. Then with an easy going shrug, shoves a tankard over to the elven druid, "Drink up, my fine fellow and join us! No upset here. Old Zeebo's a bit of a cranky sort! Sit! Sit! I was just about to regale our companions with a rousing dwarfish song! " ![]()
![]() Eireachdail beams at Ulfbrecht as he give his 'permission' to sing one of his people's songs. He takes a few moments to mull over the optimal choice, mumbling to himself, "No..no..too somber, sad...hmm, no too political...ah yes!" His performance's beginning is, however, interrupted by the introduction of the half-elvish fellow. Eireachdail is himself about to welcome the newcomer, recalling a few elvish ballads he has in his repertoire, before Zeebo's outburst. Settling back in his chair, and eyebrow raised at the entertaining possibilities that have been introduced, he raises his tankard to his lips....watching what might unfold! ![]()
![]() Eireachdail smiles down at Zeebo, "Oh indeed, a minstrel of some sort indeed! " declares, laughing loudly, fully intending to pound the unfortunate halfling on the shoulder once more, but catching himself and just gently taps instead. Then, tapping the side of his head, "Words, songs, names....whatever I hear goes in here and stays there! Grunnundergön! Grunnundergön! See? I've got it. Old Rannock was a bit of a mumbler, if you don't recall, never did hear the right name out of him! But, I've got it now....and forever!" he almost shouts, holding his tankard up, bringing down again for a deep pull, his throat working as he drank. Wiping his mouth with the back of his other hand, he looks slyly at Zeebo, "A song? Or a tale you ask? Hmm....let me ponder." He leans back a bit in his chair, casting meaningful glances at Ulfbrecht. ![]()
![]() Eireachdail accepts whatever acclaim he receives from the crowd with a bow and a smile. He beams at Jennelth's praise, "My dear, you hale and hearty is all the reward I seek!" Seeing that he'd somehow acquired a buxom patron at his hip, he smiles and gently says, "Off you go, dearie." spinning the woman off into the crowd. He grabs a nearby tankard and takes a long pull of the local brew, bitter and dark, relishing as it sooths his vocal chords. Smacking his lips , he listens as Zeebo tells the tale of their journey, slapping the little one on the shoulder, "Ah, that was well told, indeed!" He then notices the Dwarf in Zeebo's audience and giving Prestor a companionable nod, addresses Ulfbrecht, "Ah, Master Dwarf, an honor! I had occasion to sup with some of your brethren earlier this year! A more honorable or duty bound folk I haven't had the good fortune to meet! I was so impressed that I took it upon myself to learn some traditional Dwarven songs! !" He sits across from Ulfbrecht, his eyes gleaming with excitement, obviously dying to perform for his new Dwarven acquaintance! Legend Lore(CHA): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
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