True to expectations, with the support of the super community and various organizations, the teams base, colloquially becoming known as “The Solarium,” has completed construction and is officially up and running! Granted, the businesses are still going to take some time to get staffed and operational, but their facilities are available for companies to come in and provide their own alterations. But the team is given the green light to move in and get settled.
The complex is quite expansive and inclusive. There are ten livi mg quarters (room for the team to expand), each containing their own living areas, kitchens and dining areas, and master suites. Also, there is a large common area, gymnasium, a boardroom, and a “war room” where an impressive supercomputer is housed. Outside, there is a walled off outdoor area for relaxation, with a pool surrounded with a man made beach area filled with soft, white sand. The pool expands into an area made into a rocky grotto with a waterfall for ambiance. There is also a hot tub beyond the grotto, with water already steaming.
Sierra makes her way through the common areas, soaking it all in excitedly! ”Oh my god! This is great!” she says giddily.
With he annexation of Varnhold complete, things fall into a bit of a routine…as nerve wracking as that may seem. And the nation is growing. A few months ago, a man by the name of Loy Rezbin arrived and swore fealty to Administrator Sophiel, and offered up his services in the efforts to construct a town within the woodlands to the west. He assures everyone that he has brought with him all the supplies necessary to handle the founding of the town without straining Gliocas’ resources at all.
A few months pass, and the village of Tatzylford has grown up to be a quite prosperous little town built upon the location of the Tatzylford den near the Skunk River. Loy Rezbin was elected mayor. And things have continued to be peaceful in town.
Raknar steps up. "Stories are how my family and my people passed down our history. Though, I do not know if anything we've accomplished this past week is significant enough of an epic tale. But if that is what is required of us...then I shall do my best."
Raknar gathers everyone around the fireplace. It wasn't a campfire, as most good stories were told around, but it would have to do. Once everyone was seated, he begins "Just one week ago, I was but an Ammar with a goal. A goal to repay a debt and earn a place here amongst this great organization. And now, that place has been granted, against all odds. Though, the trials after have not been easy, especially for one with no training in magic like myself."
He pauses briefly. "The specific task that I tell you perhaps has already made it's way through the dormitory, but has as of yet failed to be recalled in a proper fashion. Mokhasi, Patizamo, and myself were out in the Mwangi searching for scarlet cap mushrooms. With their guidance, we located a proper area to begin harvesting. The trick about the mushrooms, though, is that they grow in the top of the trees. So, I began climbing. It was then that the foe appeared..." he paused again for effect before continuing "It was a fungal creature in the form of a man. His bulbous head was capped with a pink mushroom, and his arms and hands were the size of two of my own. He did not speak our tongue, and showed no interest in being peaceful. He covered Mokhasi and Patizamo with a cloud of spores before I could react, but react I did. I leapt down from the tree and slashed at him with my clawblades to protect the others!" he says emphatically, reenacting the strikes in time with the story. "The creature and I traded strike after strike as the others recovered and joined in the fight. With our combined mettle, the creature did not stand a chance!"
He stands up to his full height before concluding "After that, I climbed back up the tree and collected that which we had came for, before we finished the rest of our hunt and returned to campus."
Groog turns to where Metal Man went. As he gripped his sharp sword and followed, Mean Metal Man told him to do something. Groog didn’t know why. Maybe it was magic that would make him better. So he nodded and raised his blade as he bellowed out ”IF YOU NEED HELP!!!” and rushed towards the others.
Cephal smiles at the “child” and replies ”One does not just ‘look’ at a Spellbook, young man. It requires thorough study and delicate handling. Perhaps another time when there is less chance of Lord Varn tarnishing it’s pages with some wayward stout, yes?”
Varn, initially not interested in mingling with the kobold, takes some goading from Willas in the form of a whisper and begins trying to drink Ipmeek under the table. At first he doesn’t take the game serious, but as it goes on, his mood lightens but he still seems intent on making the kobold chieftain pass out. Eventually, though, he settles for an honest toast the “King’s” way and says ”Alright, we’ll call it a draw.”
The bartender, Miriam, at this point is quite intoxicated herself. She simply shrugs and says ”He likesh ta have a good time. But on Merrymead, ishn't the point to cut looshe?” she says with some alcohol induced slurring as she pours more Delver for Sophiel.
By the end of the drinking, Cephal is leaning heavily on his staff, Miriam is dancing on a table amidst much laughter, Willas is seemingly arguing about something with Ervil, who is passed out on the table beside him, and Caspar is over by the river, puking.
Eventually, Maegar clambers up on a table and calls out loudly ”WHO WANTS A STORY!?!?” to a clamor of cheers from his people around him.
He walks, well, staggers along the length of the table as he weaves his story to everyone, using liberal use of body language while miming out his tale, “When the we first arrived here, this whole area was infested with spriggans. The little bastards attacked thought us easy prey, because they clawed their way out of their holes and hovels and tried to kill us! But the Varnling Host isn’t so easily defeated!” he says with a thump on his chest. ”Cephal here threw balls of fire at the horde! Willas, channeling his Ulfen blood, cleaved through wave after wave of them with his blades while standing back to back with me as we fought for our very lives! Miriam here damn near was killed by a bolt from one, but thankfully Father Morgarian,” he pauses, looking around before finding Caspar still wretching at the river. He chuckles and shoots a thumb the priests way ”Was better at healing than drinking it seems!”
A hearty chuckle rolls over the crowd before he continues. ”Eventualy the Chief came. Bald little punk suddenly grew from the size of a halfling to the size of a hill giant! Him and all the rest of ‘em! We knew we were in for the fight of our lives if we couldn’t run ‘em off!” He draws his elegant longsword, the blade glowing a faint silvery light. ”So, I pointed my sword at the leader and told the others to bring him down! So we all focused on him and managed to slay the fiend! The tribe gathered what survivors they could and fled to the hills, and that is when Varnhold was born!”
A loud cheer rises up from the gathered town. Varn then turns towards all of you and holds out his arms invitingly. ”Come, my honored guests from the Greenbelt! Surely some of you have some tales of your adventures! I’m sure everybody here is bored to death hearing mine all the time!” The crowd chuckles at his self deprecating joke.
__________
Active Effects: Mage Armor, Detect Thoughts, Greater False Life, Tongues, Darkvision AC 13 FF 13 T 10| HP 105| F +13 R +13 W +14 | Init +9| Percep +15
At the Resurrection:
As everyone gathered around the seal, Suishen guided the proceeding and activation of the artifact to work the magic contained within. As the ritual concluded, the seal flashed with blinding white light. As the gathered members of the caravan recovered their sight and looked around, no sign of Thanara could be seen.
After several long moments of silence, the wind grew in strength, whistling through the trees and causing the canvas tops of the wagons to flap furiously. The clouds above darkened and began to circle ominously. Lightning danced across the sky from one cloud to the next, growing in intensity and frequency as the thunder rumbled from the heavens.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning crashed down from the sky and struck the clearing in the circle of those gathered. Smoke rose from the scorch mark on the ground as another bolt struck the exact same spot. Again and again, bolts of lightning surged from the roiling black clouds above, striking unerringly the same place amongst you all. After about a minute of continuous lightning strikes, suddenly there was silence.
As the smoke cleared, the silhouette of a kneeling woman could be seen through the haze. It was soon clear that the form was that of Thanara, her body fully restored, her face hidden behind her hair cascading around her bowed head. Her chest and shoulders heaved for several moments before she slowly looked up, looking around at everyone surrounding her, studying them closely. She slowly stood to her full height, her posture guarded, before she began floating up into the sky and then off into the air! She briefly landed near her wagon and collected her things before taking to the sky once again.
__________
In the city:
Thanara landed a short distance outside of the city, walking the rest of the way on foot. She was still weary from the ordeal of death and rebirth, but she was determined not to show her weakness. She made her way to the nearest temple and made an offering to the high priest to have her vitality fully restored before emerging back onto the street. She shifted her clothes to include a cloak and hood, folding the hood over her hair and face before heading into the city itself...
__________
A Tavern:
The mood is solemn within the traditional Ulfen tavern. Several Ulfen men sit gathered at a table, sharing stories with one another over their meals and drinks. A few traveling bards play some music in the background near the hearth. A line of younger men sit in a line at the bar and at a couple other long tables, small groups sit and talk and laugh quietly. And in a corner table, sits Thanara in her hooded cloak, a small glass of wine sitting in front of her, untouched.
As the bards music pauses between songs, she rises and folds her hood back. She removes her cloak and makes her way to the small clearing in front of the hearth. As she passes by, several men’s eyes wander along her body, taking in the large swathes of exposed skin her outfit reveals.
Once at the hearth, she squats in front of the fire in silence a moment before she begins singing and rising to her feet:
”We stand before an ancient thing
The ocean boils at our feet
Breaching the lines of mortality
so powerfully weak
so to speak
It holds the truth that we seek”
The bards pick up the tune and pace of her song, and almost as if on cue, begin playing a tune to match her lyrics.
Thanara turns and faces the gathered room as she continues singing:
”The sky explodes in blinding light
The air sparks heat amidst the fight of our lives
Terrain erodes as we hold on to what love
so to speak
Our truth in reach”
Her body begins moving to the bards music before she begins her chorus:
”Skies splintering
Eyes opening
Lives fading
Truth revealing”
She pauses, letting the bards play their song as she closes her eyes and allows herself to move with the music, seeming not to care that all eyes and ears are on her. After several measures of music, she concludes with another round of the chorus, her voice now almost a whisper:
”Skies splintering
Eyes opening
Lives fading
Truth revealing”
The patrons all offered up polite applause before turning their attentions back to their groups, though some of the younger, more brash men let out some cat calls and lewd comments as she returned to her table, alone.
A large man rose from the bar and made his way over to her table as she returned her cloak to her shoulders and lifted the hood up over her hair. ”That vas some song,” he said as he turned the chair opposite her around backwards and had himself a seat, straddling the back of the chair. ”What is yer name, girl?”
Thanara narrowed her eyes at the man and sits down herself, saying nothing.
The man smiles. ”The silent type, eh? That’s fine. The name’s Rognar,” he says before looking at her drink. ”What ya havin’? Need yerself somethin’ stronger?”
Thanara, having not taken her eyes off the man, simply shakes her head in reply. She finally asks quietly ”What do you want?”
The bear of a man leans forward in his chair and replies ”Why, to get to know ya a bit more, and maybe you would like to get to know me...” he says insinuatingly, the corner of his lip curling up in a cocky smile.
Thanara clenched her teeth to refrain from sending a jolt of electricity through the man. Typical.
Sensing something off, and her disinterest, he shrugs and stands, saying ”Fine. It’s no matter ta me. I should be on my way anyway. Need to be lookin’ for myself a new band anyway. Coin purse from the last raiding party is gettin’ a bit light.”
Thanara’s eyebrow raises a bit as the man starts to walk away, an idea coming to her as she sizes him up.
”Thanara,” she says, causing the man to pause and turn back her way a bit. ”Thanara Stormborn. You are looking for a job? Or a cause?”
Rognar looks at her curiously, turning back and sitting in the chair opposite Thanara again. ”What you got in mind?”
__________
The Next Day:
There is no sign of Thanara until the next day, when she and a small entourage of Ulfen warriors make their way back to the caravan’s camp.
When Sophiel rounds the chair enough to see the chair’s occupant, she sees a woman sitting in the chair, not moving, cradling an infant girl in her arms. The child is blue and lifeless. The woman, despite her sobbing, is making no actual physical movements. Her face is like a mask, unblinking, an unnaturally large smile spread across her face.
Then, with sharp, jerky movements, her head turns to face Sophiel and she stands in a fast, erratic manner. She speaks, but her face and mouth doesn’t move as she says ”They killed her! The little beasts killed her! Drowned her in her own crib!” as she approaches. Despite her voice being laden with sorrow, her strange, unnatural smile never goes away.
The group opens the door after making certain it is free of traps. They file in cautiously, noting the chamber beyond is a dusty library. The shelves stand bare, with shreds of tomes laying scattered across the dusty floor. Standing near two of the empty bookshelves are a man and woman, unmoving. They look as if they are holding books and looking down at them in their hands, but their hands are in fact empty.
As you approach, the woman's head turns slowly in a jerking motion, as if controlled by a slow puppeteer. "Arvand! Look! It says here they don't like cold iron! Maybe we could do something with that!"
"Don't be foolish, Eleanir! That sort of information is to harm them, not keep them away," the man says as his head snaps sideways at an unnatural angle and he turns at the waist to her in a way that is physically impossible to do without breaking something.
"We have to do something! I have had it with these fey! They are driving me mad! Do your job and find something to keep them at bay!" she says angrily.
The man turns and takes a couple lurching steps and backhands her! "You may be a baroness, but you will NOT talk to me that way!"
She shrieks, her voice rattling inside your heads painfully, before she bends over backwards, her shoulders and hips dislocating and turning to resemble crab legs before she scurries hurriedly up the wall and across the ceiling and into the stairwell behind you!
“Mithral Champion” Paladin 6| hp 52/52| Init +3, Per +9 (Darkvision 60’) | AC 21, T 13, FF 18 | Fort +11, Ref +9, Will +10 (acid/cold/electricity resist 5)| Rapier +9 (1d6/18-20)
Hollie gives him a firm squeeze back. ”It’s...just a lot to take in. I hope...I hope she will listen to reason...”
She stands and steps over and gives Jessalissa a hug too. ”Thanks for being there for Mattie and I. This has been hard, and I’ve been distant with everyone. I’m sorry.”
__________
The Next Morning:
Hollie wakes early and puts on her new armor and fastens her delicate sword to her hip. She looks at her large sack of coins that Bereket and Shaedeen had dropped off to her at the Cathedral, and opens it and begins counting. The more she counts, the more excited she becomes. Eventually, she hefts the sack over her shoulder and takes off through town to the south. She makes her way to the Sandpoint Mercantile League and makes her way inside. ”Sir Korvaski!” she calls out excitedly...
__________
After about an hour inside, Hollie exits, her face glowing a radiance and happiness that has been missing for quite a few days. She holds in her hand a rolled up parchment, and she and Draxtherian walk back through town towards the Cathedral, the girl almost skipping in her jubilation.
Once there, she seeks out Father Zantus and informs him that she will be moving out, thanking him profusely for everything and his hospitality, ending the conversation in an emotional embrace before heading to her private chamber and gathering her things.
As she walked down the stairs of the Cathedral, her eyes are fixated on one house just across the square from the massive building. She runs excitedly over to the door and pulls a small key ring off her belt and slips a key into the lock and turns it. The door swings open and she stands there looking inside with a small measure of awe before she mutters to Drax ”We’re home. Our own home...”
I BOUGHT A HOUSE!
__________
Shortly After Settling In:
Hollie again makes her way to the Garrison and requests to speak with Sheriff Hemlock...
A few days of travel south, and you come across what seems to be a somewhat drunk and forlorn hill giant wandering the hills. You are able to, in its inebriated state, initiate tenuous discussion with him. He informs them, in his native tongue that Chrysa and Sophiel can understand, that he is upset that the trolls refused to allow him to join their gang, and has since been wandering around alone. After some discussion, he seems to grow to like the pair, and informs them of where the troll's hideout is!
Heading west through the forest to get there, the group eventually comes across some disturbing signs...signs of dragon activity. As you discuss these worrisome signs, you are surprised by a roar from above and a crashing through the trees as a large forest drake attacks! You are able to avoid most of the ensuing chaos, but a broken limb crashes down onto Orri's back and leaves him in some pain, but nothing life threatening. You are forced to pull back to regroup as the drake returns to its lair victorious for now.
Accusations are made, names are called, but eventually tempers settle and blame is no longer thrown about the group. Agreeing this threat needs to be tended to, the group tracks the drake back to its lair and catch it unprepared! Their assault is far more successful this time around, and they bring the drake down!
Loot: ripped and broken elven masterwork chain shirt, a masterwork darkwood longbow, and a bloodstained cloak of elvenkind. COMPLETED FOREST DRAKE HUNT
The forest becomes considerably dense here, and you are forced to circle north and west to find a reasonable passage. In so doing, you eventually come to a huge deadfall of trees and brambles in a mossy heap, a mountain in miniature left from a violent windstorm. Numerous cave-like hollows can be found throughout, one of which is the home of a rare and legendary creature...a hodag! You catch it sleeping in its den, but a slipping rock awakens it before you can strike! It lunges to attack, throwing Annalla hard against the trunk of a fallen tree! In short order, however, the hodag is slain. Strangely enough, a spear was lodged in its back, just as Stas had mentioned in his flier...
The group now turns south, passing by many clear indications of troll activity, you eventually reach where the trolls have entrenched themselves. They seem to have claimed and ancient guard post in the forested hills between the southern Narlmarches and the Kamelands. The post is dwarven in design, and sits high on a cliff face among forested hills on the side of a rocky hill and is only accessible by a carefully concealed path. Ipmeek is able to spot the watch tower, cleverly disguised as a natural rock formation.
A narrow path winds its way up the hill, a steep cliff face on one side and a sheer drop-off on the other. At the top, the path follows a wide ledge, where the corner of a weathered stone building juts from the side of the hill. Inside, two trolls can be heard arguing with one another. The group begins their assault, and quickly learn why trolls are such monsters of legend. The fight does not go as they had hoped, but they eventually bring the pair down with just Sophiel and Isabella having the wind knocked from their lungs.
To their south is a single passage that leads to a wide flight of stone stairs that lead up to a circular chamber with a high ceiling. A foul stench fills the air, emanating from the layers of filth caked on the floor. It is clear this is where the trolls have made their latrine. The stairs lead up 100 feet to the sole room at the top of the tower, where a single troll does a poor job of keeping watch. The group engages it immediately, but even alone it is dangerous. However, it's laziness proved to be its undoing and it falls with little effort!
The group returns downstairs and turns down the western branch that leads deeper into the hillside. At the end of the worked stone hall is a heavy stone door, thick enough to have drowned out the sound of combat thus far...fortunately for the heroes. Pushing open the door they find a large stone table that takes up the center of this large chamber, whose walls are decorated with ancient carvings that have been defaced and vandalized with crude graffiti in several languages. A headless halfling corpse lies atop the bloodstained table. A troll stands next to the table, feeding scraps of the unfortunate halfling to one of the gang's trollhounds, a slavering, brutish beast that looks like a monstrous cross between a troll and a warhound. Turning to see the smaller group, they immediately turn to attack! Unable to get surprise on the foes this time proves to make the battle much more difficult, and the group is forced to fight their way out of even the doorway. The trollhound was a frustrating foe, but once it was down and the group was able to focus on the troll, they were able to clear the room for now.
More deep barking and growling can be heard from a passage to the north, and the group turns to investigate quickly. There they find three thick chains bolted to the northern wall, and a floor covered with bones, half-eaten rotting meat, and mounds of foul-smelling dung. One chain hangs slack, while the other two are pulled taut by the desperate attempt of two more trollhounds trying to reach the group! However, restrained as they are, they are far easier to dispatch than the one that had been free.
Turning south back through the troll's mess hall, the group passes through a room filled with stacked boxes, barrels, crates, and bags from floor to ceiling and line the crude shelves along the walls. A rough hole gapes in the southern wall, leading deeper into the hillside, the worked chambers falling behind them as they enter a true cavern now.
The rough tunnel widens into a thirty-foot-high natural cavern hunt with dripping stalagmites. Gnawed bones litter the floor, while the northern portion of the room holds a collection of severed, humanoid heads arranged around a large circle drawn on the floor with dried blood. Standing beyond the circle is an alarming sight...a troll with two heads! The troll charges the group, and he proves to be a vicious and surprisingly cunning foe! However, in the end he is laid low through a combination of efforts from the group! But before they can recover, they are surprised by an attack from two more trolls charging them from behind! They are forced to scramble to reposition and counterattack, and after a hard fight they manage to drop them both.
After catching their breath, the group presses on. Further into the cave, they find two passages. They elect to take the right one first, and press on. The air in this cavern seems somewhat cooler than that of the rest of the complex, but the stench of decaying flesh hangs heavy in the air. Along the walls are stacked carcasses of dozens of beasts, from foxes and wolves to deer and elk, as well as a couple of horses and what appears to be a skinned bear. The southern portion of the room holds a grislier collection of corpses: the bodies of several humanoids, from gnomes and halflings to humans and elves. Most of the cadavers seem to be decapitated.
Lording over this makeshift larder is a troll who stands a few feet taller than the others you've seen. his earth-colored skin studded with small crystals reveals him to be a rare rock troll! He charges you, trying to protect his stores with sheer brute strength and violence! Annalla's sonic spells seem to prove quite effective, and the monstrous creature is soon enough brought down! There is but one chamber remaining...
King of the Forest:
Tide of Battle:1d6 ⇒ 2 Minor Injured?:1d2 ⇒ 1 Who?:1d6 ⇒ 5 Type:1d4 ⇒ 2
For this final fight, I'm altering the results from the Tide of Battle roll. Instead, a 1 will be 2 used slots of highest level for any resources by all PC's, a 2 will be 1 used slot of highest resources by all PC's, a 3 will be 2 used slots of lower resources, a 4 1 used slot of lower resources, and a 5 will be 1 PC at random used 1 higher resource, and a 6 will be 1 PC used 1 lower resource. This will be if it makes sense. So, for example, Annalla's highest resource is Dispel Magic. So if that wouldn't apply, I'd drop down to her level 2 selection. When I end up with a "Lower Resource" Option, I will roll a random die to determine which level of resource is used.
Tide of Battle, Surprise:1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Tide of Battle, Surprise:1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
Tide of Battle:1d6 ⇒ 4
Tide of Battle:1d6 ⇒ 4
Tide of Battle:1d6 ⇒ 1
Tide of Battle:1d6 ⇒ 4
After the push through the troll lair, the four of you with trackable resources have the following remaining:
“Mithral Champion” Paladin 6| hp 52/52| Init +3, Per +9 (Darkvision 60’) | AC 21, T 13, FF 18 | Fort +11, Ref +9, Will +10 (acid/cold/electricity resist 5)| Rapier +9 (1d6/18-20)
As Nualia talks, the tears begin flowing freely from Hollie’s eyes. She...she was pregnant? She caused the fire? And lost her baby? And now she...she’s joined a cult?
”J-join you? Nualia! I’ve come to try and save you! What you’ve done, what you’re doing...it’s wrong! People have gotten hurt! Killed! How could you do this!?!?” she asks in shock, sadness, frustration, all rolled into one.
Reference Image AC 18 FF 14 T 14| HP 38/38| F +6 R +10 W +4 (+2 vs. Transmutation/Enchantment)| Init +4 (+2 Dungeons)| Percep +17 (+2 Dungeons, +1 Traps)
Buffs:
None
Escape?:1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 6 + 2 = 14
”NooooHOOOO!!!” Veltariel cries out as she struggles in futility, water sloshing all over the side of the basin and onto the floor as she strained to no avail at the grip Esrisi has on her, the tickling keeping her from putting up a solid fight.
”Eh? Ye got inflammation that’s obtainable? Put a ragweed poultice on it and leave it overnight! Don’t ya know anything about anything? Why ya bothering me with this nonsense!?!?” she replies.
Reference Image AC 18 FF 14 T 14| HP 38/38| F +6 R +10 W +4 (+2 vs. Transmutation/Enchantment)| Init +4 (+2 Dungeons)| Percep +17 (+2 Dungeons, +1 Traps)
Buffs:
None
Veltariel returns to the tavern not too long after a calamity seems to have already befallen it. The building was in ruin. Revenge robbed from her.
She simply stood there, a shadow against a blanket of darkness. Staring numbly at the carnage that should have been hers to sow by right.
She sees Sapher and Mokhasi arrive, Esrisi and Caroliss dragging wounded away. Sees them begin healing the wounded.
Helping then. THEM!?!? Of all the scum in this city, they heal the patrons of the ones who harmed me.
Her hands tighten into fists. She takes her bow in her hand, knocking an arrow and drawing the string back. She draws aim on Sapher as she speaks with Mokhasi. She lets out a long breath and tries to steady her trembling hand.
They don’t know. They have no idea.
A tear trickles down her cheek as she relaxes the bowstring and drops to her knees on the rooftop, sobbing.
hp 39/39 | Init +3, Per +8 (Darkvision 60’, Scent) | AC 21, T 13, FF 18 | Fort +5, Ref +7, Will +1 (+4 vs Poison and Petrification, electricity resist 5, cold 10, sonic 10) | Bite +8 (1d6+3)]
Drax is focused in on his prey, and goes for the kill...
Perlivash pales and hangs his head a moment as a realization hits his. But he brightens up at Chrysa’s last statement and says ”Shame we didn’t know her back when you had your earlier encounter up an ow-“
”WE AGREED TO NEVER TALK ABOUT THAT!” Tyg yells.
Akiros says ”No. No wagon. But Topper and I will gladly stay and guard it for you until you return. It is yours by right, despite the ill-gotten nature of its being here.”
Perlivash and Tyg fly over and land on the table and agree to stay and keep it safe too, at least until you return.
AC 20 (22) FF 19 T 11| HP 30| F +6 To R +2 W +6| Init +2| Percep +6
The flicker of a candle danced along the stone walls as the sound of water dripping in the background could barely be heard above the din and commotion of the bar above. A man, a kid really was tied to a chair, hands secured to the table in front of him. A thick strap of leather through his mouth. He looked about the room, his body trembling in terror as his swollen eyes tried to adjust to the view through the pain.
”Kelvin Mellinbeam,” a deep voice said from the shadows beyond the candlelight. ”You were once a man of honor. A good man. Then you let the scum of this city twist you and get the better of your mind.”
A large form stepped from the shadows, a man who had a broad frame but had clearly wasted a bit in recent days. His tarnished, heavily worn armor would almost be missed as anything if jote to an untrained eye, but Kelvin recognized it as being standard issue to officers of the Korvosan Guard. The large man’s cloak was dirty and tattered, and his face was shrouded behind a thick, unruly beard. He stepped to the edge of the shadows and adds ”Many men believe their friends are those they share their life with. Times of happiness and joy. Those men are fools. In truth, your truest friends are those who are with you at the end. When no one else is there to share the most intimate of moments. In that regard,” the man says as he steps forward ominously, ”I am about to become the best friend you have ever had.”
The large man reaches down and takes Kelvin’s bound hand with his left hand, as his right produces a sturdy dagger. The young man struggled to close his fist as his eyes widened, but the large man laid the blade down and slammed a fist into the back of the boy’s hand, forcing the fingers out straight and breaking a few hand bones as the kid cried out a muffled cry into the leather gag.
The man pressed down hard on the kids hand and took the dagger up once more. He pressed the tip down into the flesh of the boys index finger, causing him to let out a futile cry in agony as the man did his work. After a couple agonizing moments, the man laid the dagger down and reached down, pulling the finger bones from the useless flesh still hanging from his index finger as the boy looked on in helpless terror. The large man then snapped the last two bones of the finger away at the joint, holding them up before the boy’s swollen eyes before dropping them in front of him.
Kelvin continued screaming as the large man said flatly ”Calm down.”
Eventually his screams subsided to whimpering and heavy breathing, at which point the man reached up and removed the gag. Before he could say anything, Kelvin immediately began screaming ”HELP! SOMEO-“ before the strap was forcefully returned to his mouth.
”That was foolish,” the man said without emotion as he picked the knife up and repeated the process on Kelvin’s middle finger.
When Kelvin had calmed once more, the bearded man removed the gag once more. This time, the boy was quiet. ”Good. Now. Tell me what you know of the murder of Vanora Draverian.”
Kevin looked at him in confusion, before stammering ”I...I don’t know anything...”
This went on for some time. By the time Kelvin was out of fingers, the large man was growing frustrated. ”You know something. I don’t appreciate liars,” he said as he thrust the dagger above the boy’s clavicle. Kelvin screamed, the shrieks growing frantic as the man dig his fingers into the wound and forcefully pulling the boy’s clavicle up through the skin. He snapped it in half and pulled hard, freeing half of the bone and dropping it into the pile of finger bones on the table.
The boy began desperately muttering something into the gag. The man removed the gag and said ”There are over 200 bones in a human body,” the man said before Kelvin could speak. ”We are only through 21. Last chance. What do you know of her murder,” he asked in an ominously even tone.
”I...I don’t know!” Kelvin pleaded. As the man reached to replace the gag he desperately added ”Wait wait wait! I know who would! Gaedren. Gaedren Lamm. He has eyes and ears all in the streets. If anyone knows, it’s him!”
The bearded man nods and says ”Thank you, friend.”
A moment later, he drew a very well made and darkly decorated blade and thrust it through Kelvin’s chest. He cleaned the blade on Kelvin’s clothes before returning it to its sheath. He wrapped the body in a blanket then put it in a sack before he drug it to the river, dumping the whole thing inside for the fish and turtles to feast.
He cleaned any evidence off his clothes, then made his way to a nearby pub, the Sticky Mermaid, for a drink.
When Ameiko tussles her hair, Thanara jerks her head away and says ”Hey! You know I already have enough trouble with my hair as is!” as she tries to fix it back as best she can with her fingers.
When Shayliss starts in with her spewed jealous hate, Thanara just smirks and puts her hands on her hips. ”Shayliss, this jealousy isn’t good for you. It’s not my fault Geoffrey asked me to the play instead of you,” When Ameiko steps ahead of her to interject, Thanara has her sleeves shift her clothes briefly to the dress she wore that night to the show, shooting a spiteful kiss pucker Shayliss’ way, then immediately shifts it back to her “adventuring attire.”
As Shayliss stomps away, Thanara turns to Ameiko and shrugs innocently as they wait for Ven to enter.
AC 33, T 18, FF 25; (All saves +2 vs Evil) Fort +16, Ref +18, Will +22; Init +2; Percept +36
Current Buffs: (Permanent: Darkvision, See Invisibility, Arcane Sight), Heightened Awareness, Shield, False Life, Tears to Wine, Invisibility Sphere
The Following Day:
Argor arrived at the Magnimar Lodge, operated by Venture-Captain Sheila Heidmarch, with a flash of light. He appeared a few feet in front of the manor’s gateway, and casually began making his approach with William Lightstaff close at his heels.
He knocked on the door, which was answered by a young footman. He looked at the pair of mages quizzically before asking ”May I help you, Sirs?”
”Argor Constantine for Lady Heidmarch,” Argor replied bluntly.
The young page arched an eyebrow at him, not recognizing the name, before adding ”One moment,” and disappearing into the Lodge.
Argor tapped the bottom of his staff once against the paver impatiently, and William looked about nervously. But within a few moments, the Lady of the House greeted them and saw them inside. She leads them to an interior chamber where another man was present, another Venture-Captain named Ambrus Valsin. He started to introduce himself, but Argor cut him short by raising his hand and saying curtly ”Ward the room.”
The two VC’s looked at each other, and started to interject, but Argor simply said ”Now.”
The weight of his words was enough to convince them to acquiesce. After about thirty minutes, a half dozen other Pathfinder mages had arrived and faced the walls, concentrating on various spells that warded the room from eavesdroppers.
Argor looked at them both and said, ”My fellow Pathfinders, as you can see, the task that lies ahead for me transcends the interests of Magnimar’s esteemed lodge. It is a mission that could affect all of Golarion and merits the direct attention of the Decemvirate.”
Ambrus looks at Argor, confused. ”The Decemvirate? What do they wish for us to do?”
Argor turned his glowing eyes to Ambrus and replies ”They wish for you to aid me in this without question. They have received concerning reports of what has been transpiring here in Varisia, particularly in regards to the Runelord Krune. They fear his awakening is soon at hand, spurred into action by the attempted rise of Karzoug the Claimer,” he pauses as he turns his eyes to Sheila. ”The Decemvirate has learned that you recently acquired some Refuge Tokens, and divined their command words. I require two of them to enter into his domain and put a stop to him before he can fully awaken and command his full power.”
Sheila shakes her head, ”You cannot do this alone, Sir. Let us gather a team and send some aid with you!”
”There isn’t time,” Argor retorts. ”My apprentice shall accompany me. It will be a good learning experience for him, and his aid may prove invaluable if I become overwhelmed. Either way, we will do whatever it takes to end this threat to Golarion...permanently.”
She looks to Ambrus before nodding gravely, reaching into her desk drawer and retrieving two of the tokens and handing them to Argor, who promptly hands one over to a very pale looking William. Argor looks him in the eye and says ”Make your preparations.”
The two mages then begin layering their defenses upon themselves before they simultaneously activate their tokens and vanish in a flash!
False Life:1d10 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16
__________
A small ziggurat emerges from the southern wall in a tomb like stone chamber. Most of the structure's blocks are simple but precisely cut stone blocks, but in several places petrified humans-too finely sculpted to be carved-shoulder the burden of the blocks above with scarred backs and hands. A short, steep flight of steps ascends the northern face to a second tier, and to the east and west two are other sets of steps that lead to the ziggurat's apex twenty feet above the ground, falling short of the thirty-foot ceiling. Curled about the apex of the ziggurat is a creature with the upper body of a woman, and the lower body of a serpent. From her back sprouts three sets of green feathered wings, and she wields a serpentine staff within her scaly grip.
Fortunately for the mages, they arrived veiled within an invisibility sphere. Argor held a finger up to William, who looked on anxiously at the creature standing vigil atop the ziggurat. He motions for his apprentice to follow him into the air, and the pair of wizards fly up to about 75 feet away from the outsider.
Banishment ??? Will:1d20 + 13 ⇒ (1) + 13 = 14
With a quick incantation, Argor unleashes a spell to cast the creature back from whence it came! The creature looked about in a surprised frenzy, seeing the mages as they appeared from their aggressive spell, but it was too late! She was banished back to her home realm! Before they advance further, Argor holds up a hand to William and says quietly ”There is a ward on the southern half of the ziggurat...an alarm spell. Likely to further warn the guardians further in. Give me a moment to dismantle it...”
Dispel Magic:1d20 + 20 ⇒ (16) + 20 = 36
He finishes his incantation and studies the area with his arcane sight, before nodding to William and saying ”It is done. Let us proceed.”
The pair then float up to the large door at the top of the stairs south of the ziggurat. They terminate in a large stone door, and carved into the door’s center is a large seven-pointed star...a Sihedron...with a palm-sized disk of blue-green metal inlaid into each point and a handprint embedded in its center. The disks glow softly with blue-green light, illuminating several runes that surround the handprint.
The wizards hover in place as Argor studies the sigils. ”What is it?” William asks softly.
”Abyssium,” Argor replies. ”It is a type of skymetal that gradually sickens those who carry or contact it. It was historically associated with the Sloth Mages of Thassilon. But, in addition to its poisonous properties, it is capable of producing and storing large amounts of energy. Further...these runes have been altered. They originally read ‘Only those who bear the life sign shall pass.’ Someone has altered the Thassilonian rune for Life with a self possessive, making it read ‘my sign’ instead. A sloppy misdirection. But the door is also warded with a necromantic trap designed to sap life force. Do not touch it.”
Argor works a bit more magic and then telekinetically opens the door before leading the way inside. The door opens into a fifteen-foot hallway that extends to the northeast and northwest to create a heptagon also perimeter around a central structure. Great stone plates inlaid with blue-green metal are built into alternating walls, each massive plate inscribed with its own immense rune. Framing each rune is a trio of extraplanar figures cast in stone, each one’s visage twisted in anger, agony, or despair. The only other visible door lies on the eastern side of the central structure.
Argor hovers over to one of the massive plates with the glowing runes, studying it intently. ”Fascinating...William, keep watch...”
William does so, clutching his own staff in both hands as he looks about, occasionally casting curious looks at the runes as well.
”I spent much time doing research on Krune and his methods. These must be the foci for his defensive wards he inscribed on his body. Disabling them should weaken him significantly...” he muses to himself. He hovers to each one in turn, studying it before naming it for William to learn, then attempting to disable it...
”The Rune of Life...” he says before sending a spell its way...Enervation:1d4 ⇒ 4...resulting in the rune’s glow ending.
”The Rune of Alacrity...problematic, but not without a workaround...” he says before beginning a summoning. A moment later, an icy, insectile monstrosity steps through a portal, looking around curiously. Argor held a finger to his lips, commanding it to remain quiet. ”Target this rune with a damaging cold spell, and make it good, devil...”
”Argor...I don’t like it when you summon these abominations...”
”A means to an end, Adrenia. I shall be rid of it once it has fulfilled its purpose.”
Cone of Cold:13d6 ⇒ (6, 3, 4, 4, 6, 1, 4, 6, 2, 1, 3, 2, 2) = 44 The Ice Devil unleashes a blast of chilly death at the rune, and a moment later, it too fades from existence.
”The Rune of Defense...” Argor comments before incanting a spell. Lightning begins to dance along his fingers before the magic launches itself at the rune...Chain Lightning:20d6 ⇒ (1, 5, 4, 6, 6, 1, 4, 1, 3, 5, 1, 6, 1, 5, 5, 6, 2, 4, 2, 1) = 69 resulting in its functioning to cease as well!
They proceed to the next one, ”Another Rune of Life...” Argor mutters before attempting the same tactic that worked before...Envervation:1d4 ⇒ 4 with a repeat in the result.
Before moving on, William says ”Master...look...”, pointing out an elegant flail wrapped around the neck of the statue of a monadic deva. The Ice Devil chitters quietly with glee, earning a reprimanding look from Argor.
”Yes...I noticed. Good eye, William. Take it. It is quite valuable and does the deva no further purpose,” Argor replied.
William gathers it and places the weapon inside an extradimensional bag at his hip before the duo and their summon continue on around the circuit.
”Ah, the Rune of Armor. Stand aside, it takes fire to remove this one...” he warns before pointing a finger at the rune, sending three beams of flame at it!
Continuing on, they come upon another rune on the wall. ”The Rune of Control. Devil, you can be of service once again. Stab this thing until it vanishes.” The devil, compelled to obey, begins stabbing the rune with its spear and in a few quick thrusts, the rune fades away.
They finish the lap around the structure at another Rune of Life which William correctly identifies. Argor nods and sends another spell at it, Enervation:1d4 ⇒ 3, and Krune’s final defensive ward is stripped away. He then turns to the others and says whispers ”Now, we advance on the inner sanctum. Be prepared to eliminate any and all threats.”
Standing before the door, Argor turns to the devil and gestures with his head for it to lead the advance. It grips its spear before stepping forward and opening the door...
The walls of this wide atrium curve gently up to an opaque, glassy dome. Tan light from an unseen source filters through the dome, faintly illuminating the area. The room narrows to the west, where a broad stone altar flanked by iron braziers obstructs movement further in. An iron tile mosaic frames a door-sized space on the east wall, with a three-foot-tall stone pedestal bearing a shallow bowl standing next to it. Sickly greenish-purple motes of light play across the walls, shining from the room to the west.
As the ice devil advances, a rune discharges on the ceiling, sending bolts of lightning through it!
Near the shrine are four figures, one woman wearing a silk mask over her lower face, two men wielding greatswords, and a dark naga. The woman says ”Intruders seeking to interfere with our Master’s return. Agarik, Jorgas...end them!”
”With pleasure, Lashmistress Vandiana,” the reply eagerly.
The naga sends a bolt of lightning through the group, but fails to even so much as singe Argor or the devil. Only William seems phased, and he grunts in pain as the electricity surges through him. The two men with greatswords each drink down a potion.
William retaliates with a spell of his own. A small orange bead flies into the midst of their group, exploding in to a fiery inferno! Vandiana retorts with a spell of her own, attempting to befuddle the mages. But their will proves too strong for her enchantment.
”Enough of this! I am not interested in prolonged engagements!” Argor says before sending lightning bouncing between the various members of the opposing group! They all cry out in anguish, the humans all falling as their charred bodies smolder from the assault. The naga remains standing, however, to Argor’s chagrin. He scowls at it before quickly sending a series of three fiery rays at it, finishing the thing off and causing it to fall limply to the floor. All that remains of Krune’s guardians are their charred corpses.
The light in the next room begins to grow as Adrenia uses the healing wand she had left from Argor’s prior adventures on William. He nods a thanks to her as Argor says ”Come. We haven’t much time,” before following the devil into the next chamber.
Four thick chains extend from the walls to suspend a heavy stone sarcophagus several feet off the ground. A dozen cracks run across the sarcophagus's surface-opaque, bruise-colored vapor seeps from these breaks, pooling on the ground. Short lived flashes of energy sporadically dance across the stone and through the mist. Argor narrows his eyes at the sarcophagus before turning back to the altar in the previous room. He hovers over and picks up a gleaming, flawless emerald off of the top of the alter before hovering back into the room with the sarcophagus. Without looking from the gem, he says ”William. Get the book of prayers from the altar.”
”Yes, Master Constantine,” he replies before turning and quickly flying back to the altar as well. Once he is away, Argor says an incantation and a wall of force separates William from the fight!
”Master!?!? What are you doing?” William asks nervously.
”Keeping you safe, William. This could prove dangerous, unless my initial gambit succeeds. If it fails, this chamber will be a battleground the likes of which has only been seen on Golarion a handful of times. Watch, learn, and if I fall, return home with the scroll I gave you and warn Master Giles,” Argor says as he hands the gem to the devil.
”Master! No!” William pleads as he slams a fist against the wall!
”What...What insolence is this?” Krune says seethingly as he studies his adversaries.
”This is your end, Runelord,” Argor retorts before weaving some magic, attempting to cripple the Runelord quickly! Krune’s mental faculties are ripped apart by the might of Argor’s spell! A defensive ward Krune had placed prior to his stasis kicks in, attempting to remove the effect, but to no avail as the damage was magic had already done its damage and faded!
”What have you done!?!?” a feminine voice cries out. ”You will pay for this, you wretches!” it wails as a beam of black energy flies from the staff and hits Argor, causing him to crumple to his knees, leaning on his staff for support! Krune then stabs at Argor with the weapon twice, but the mage’s defenses prove too thorough!
”The spear! Take the spear!” Argor commands the devil. It reaches out with both hands, as Krune attempts to prevent it from doing so with a thrust of his own! The tooth of the spear hits the devil square in the chest, but does not manage to penetrate the carapace! The devil then grabs it and begins trying to wrest it away from the Runelord. It was a surprising struggle, but he manages to take it away!
”Put it in my pack!” Argor commands as he works a spell to dispel the effect sapping his strength. He is successful, and as he stands, the devil pushes the spear down into Argor’s pack as the spear cries out ”No! You’ll pay for this! I will end you! I will e-“ it shrieks before being cut off by the flap closing down on it, sealing it in the extradimensional space.
__________
Moving to narrative...he can’t do anything at this point...
Krune, now without a weapon and without his spells, tries to tackle Argor, but the Ice Devil grasps him and holds him back. Argor steps up and stares at the man, studying him and his features intently. ”You and your kin were the stuff of legends, Krune. But no more. Your time is finished,” he says as he raises a hand and points it at Krune’s chest.
”Argor...he is beaten...” Adrenia pleads with her mage.
”But the spell debilitating him can be undone by another. It is too much of a risk, Adrenia. There is already one Runelord at large on Golarion. And another defeated. I cannot risk letting another free due to my own negligence, even if it is merciful,” Argor sighs.
Adrenia looks at the mage, then the the Runelord, before she sighs and nods. She had studied alongside Argor and recounted with flawless memory the atrocities these Runelords were responsible for and capable.
Argor then utters the incantation, and a beam of green energy surges into Krune! Argor repeats this twice before the Runelord is reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash and dust. William watches on from the other chamber beyond the wall of force, his jaw slack from the duel he just witnessed.
Argor collects the Runelords belongings, placing them all within William’s satchel, except for the runecovered rod. He studies it a moment before tucking it within his own robes. He then turns to William and says ”Let us go.”
__________
Mid-Afternoon, Sandpoint:
Jeevika is startled by the sudden appearance of Argor Constantine and another man. The man at Argor’s side is quite young. And Argor himself appears...older...compared to yesterday. Several years older, in fact. He looks at her and studies her face a moment before he says flatly, ”It is done. Runelord Krune is no more.”
Reference Image AC 18 FF 14 T 14| HP 38/38| F +6 R +10 W +4 (+2 vs. Transmutation/Enchantment)| Init +4 (+2 Dungeons)| Percep +17 (+2 Dungeons, +1 Traps)
Human Bard 6| AC 20 FF 17 T 11| HP 49/49| F +4 R +8 W +6| Init +1| Percep +9
Buffs:
Inspire Courage, Bull’s Strength, Tongues
Gonna use Loremaster (may as well, haven't as of yet! lol)
As they ride, Darian reminisces quietly. "My father, back in Kintargo, he loved to hunt. He would go out with a group at least once a week during the warm months to find some game. Depending on what they found, they'd either fix it in a big group dinner, or he'd sell the excess to a local butcher."
"Anyway. One evening I remember he came home, and the men weren't as...jovial as usual. Several men had died, and they didn't have any game. He later told me about how they had come across a troll hunting the same elk that they were after. He said the troll tore into them like a fearless nightmare. Talked about how it ripped men's arms off like they were twigs on an old dead tree. Bit another in half like a strip of jerky. It took all they could throw at it to bring it down, but it wouldn't stay down. Got back up and tore my dad's houndmaster's leg off. He said the things wounds just kept closing on their own like magic. Eventually, they burned the thing while a few of the men kept stabbing it to just keep it down. The fire seemed to do the trick."
After a brief pause, he adds "He later told me he had learned that acid worked well against the beasts too. So on his future hunts, he always carried a flask of acid and a flask of alchemist fire with him. I believe we have a couple flasks of the fire with us. We should distribute those. And when we get them down, pile them up and burn them. After we get the troll blood we need, of course..."
__________
When the trolls can be heard, Darian reigns in his horse and dismounts, tying it off to a nearby tree. As he does, he gets his bow and whispers to the others "Let's do what we can at range first, we should be able to get at least one volley off before they close. Bring them down one at a time as fast as possible, and someone try and burn them whenever possible to keep them down."
He then lights a torch and puts it in his shield sconce for easy retrieval later before moving up slowly as the group makes preparations...
Prep:
Light a torch and put it in my shield sconce
Mirror Image 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5 Images + Darian
Vanish
Inspire Courage
Allegro
Attack
Reference Image AC 18 FF 14 T 14| HP 38/38| F +6 R +10 W +4 (+2 vs. Transmutation/Enchantment)| Init +4 (+2 Dungeons)| Percep +17 (+2 Dungeons, +1 Traps)
Buffs:
None
”Try not to let your jealousy of the elven form overwhelm you,” Veltariel says smugly in all her 3D Rendered Awesomeness!
Reference Image AC 18 FF 14 T 14| HP 38/38| F +6 R +10 W +4 (+2 vs. Transmutation/Enchantment)| Init +4 (+2 Dungeons)| Percep +17 (+2 Dungeons, +1 Traps)
I was going to use it as a sort artifact. It would grow in powers as a custom designed item (by myself) that would have some nifty powers that revealed over time, but would also be used to keep individual wealth somewhat even in case you fell behind.
Loot:
+2 Full Plate (Huge) x6
Sihedron Ring x19 (18 if you leave one on Ameiko)
+4 Full Plate (Huge) x3
Potions of cure serious wounds x5
+5 full plate
+5 heavy steel shield
Magical Scimitar (needs proper ID check)
+1 composite longbow (+10 Str) with 20 arrows
belt of physical might +6 (Str, Con)
boots of teleportation
cloak of minor displacement
headband of inspired wisdom +6
ring of freedom of movement
scarab of protection (10 charges)
vibrant purple ioun stone (contains a fly spell)
+5 Full Plate (Gargantuan) x2
2 falchion x4
headband of inspired wisdom +2 x4
ring of protection +2 x4
staff of size alteration
masterwork dagger
amulet of natural armor +2
evil robe of the archmagi (variant, +4 resist to saves replaced by +4 Int enhancement)
gold-and-ivory contingency statuette worth 2,000 gp
spellbooks (contain all spells from the Core Rulebook plus monstrous physique
spells from the Advanced Player’s Guide, save for any enchantment and illusion spells), gemstone dust worth 15,000 gp (for temporal stasis)
I’ll update here ASAP. Hard to do research and look at my books and type updates on my phone simultaneously. Soon as I get a chance to breath from work and life I will move this along.
To expedite things, do you guys want me to just auto-roll perceptions and applicable skill checks for you all?
Reference Image AC 18 FF 14 T 14| HP 38/38| F +6 R +10 W +4 (+2 vs. Transmutation/Enchantment)| Init +4 (+2 Dungeons)| Percep +17 (+2 Dungeons, +1 Traps)
Reference Image AC 18 FF 14 T 14| HP 38/38| F +6 R +10 W +4 (+2 vs. Transmutation/Enchantment)| Init +4 (+2 Dungeons)| Percep +17 (+2 Dungeons, +1 Traps)
Buffs:
None
While they are gone:
Veltariel moves off a short distance, remaining in sight, but out of range for anyone to hear her quiet sobs...
_________
On the way back:
She doesn’t even give Esrisi the chance to give her any orders. She walks off a ways and lets the wagon get a hefty lead before falling in behind it, her head hung.
_________
At the Lodge:
Veltariel stands quietly to the side and rear, arms folded across her filth crusted midriff as she lets the Pathfinders handle their business. When Esrisi makes her ultimatum, she sighs to herself and rolls her eyes.
Reference Image AC 18 FF 14 T 14| HP 38/38| F +6 R +10 W +4 (+2 vs. Transmutation/Enchantment)| Init +4 (+2 Dungeons)| Percep +17 (+2 Dungeons, +1 Traps)
Veltariel grits her teeth at the unnerving sensation. She twists around with her arms, forcing Esrisi to spin as well and face her. She looks the human in the eyes, her own full of hate, and then pulls down had with her arms, dragging Esrisi’s head down...into Veltariel’s rising knee which catches her right in the nose!
As Esrisi lands backwards in the sewage, unconscious, Veltariel steps over her and stares down at her coldly. She spits in her face...and then in a lightning quick move she kneels down and slips her dagger from its sheath! She takes a handful of the girls hair and lifts it up, then severs the golden locks from it in a careless fashion!
She lets Esrisi’s head flop back into the muck with a thud as she stands back up, tucking the dagger away along with threading the girl’s hair around her belt and tieing it in place!
”So you remember when you wake up!” she says before turning to climb back out of the pit.
Reference Image AC 18 FF 14 T 14| HP 38/38| F +6 R +10 W +4 (+2 vs. Transmutation/Enchantment)| Init +4 (+2 Dungeons)| Percep +17 (+2 Dungeons, +1 Traps)
Buffs:
None
When she hears Adorellan begin working magic, Veltariel steps around the corner and draws her bowstring back, but the thug had already fled. She narrows her eyes as she relaxes her bowstring and returns the arrow to her quiver. She walks towards the unconscious men and draws her dagger...
Reference Image AC 18 FF 14 T 14| HP 38/38| F +6 R +10 W +4 (+2 vs. Transmutation/Enchantment)| Init +4 (+2 Dungeons)| Percep +17 (+2 Dungeons, +1 Traps)
Inevitable Treasure Search:
ring of greater cold resistance
Sihedron ring - same as from Hidden beast
64,000 sp
21,000 gp
520 pp
a gold coffer worth 1,400 gp that contains 35 assorted gemstones worth a total of 12,000 gp
a silver bracelet worth 25 gp
a jade comb worth 300 gp
a pair of red silk gloves embroidered with gold thread worth 800 gp for the pair (in a glass display box itself worth 100 gp)
a suit of masterwork mithral half-plate
a masterwork breastplate
a suit of +2 banded mail
a wand of lightning bolt (CL 6th, 23 charges)
a leather bag containing 4 frozen potions of cure light wounds, a frozen potion of owl’s wisdom, a flask of oil of magic vestment +4, a bejeweled ivory scroll tube worth 300 gp that contains a scroll of foresight and a scroll of mass heal, a ring of evasion, and a rod of extend metamagic.
I generally run a house rule I refer to as “A Deity Call.”
When a PC dies, the DM (and only the DM) makes a 1d100 roll, and the goal is to roll UNDER your character level. If successful, a deity has taken personal interest in your fate for the moment, and intervenes on your behalf.
In such rare cases, the lucky (formerly unlucky) PC has a form of Boon attached to their character, but also often times gain some unspoken responsibilities too. Those may or may not come up in game, depending on RP, but the character indefinitely knows that a higher power is watching them closely with expectations...
Some classes get unwritten boosts to their Deity Call roll, like clerics, paladins, oracles, and such. Particularly pious individuals also get some boosts too.
The nobles pull Lucius body to the far shore, gingerly rolling him over. His eyes are open and unblinking, he is not breathing, and his torso appears terribly mangled.
Dolgrin leans down over his body, placing a hand on his chest, then an ear to his mouth. ”E....E’s nay breathin’,” Dolgrin mutters. ”By Torag’s beard trimmin’s, e’s dead!”
He shakes his head before he grasps Lucius’ shoulders and shakes him forcefully. ”Lucius! Wake up!”
Don’t panic just yet. I have some housrule solutions to PC death, one of which involves...1-7 results in awesome:1d100 ⇒ 6 O.o oh my god...literally...ummm okay lemme get creative here...
The pool calms, and a moment later, the pool turns red with blood, and the large body of the chitinous creature floats to the surface, which frightens Govannon briefly as it passes. A moment later, just to the side of it, Lucius’ body surfaces...unmoving...
The second bolt from Lucius' crossbow is enough to bring down the wounded beast!
__________
See, that's why I figured theater of the mind would work for this. 4 whole hits killed it. lol
I am going to submit a Newborn. I will post as my default alias for now, though, to keep my post count down on it until you guys give it a name in game. Heh.
Backstory:
Who created you, and why? "Unit constructed by Facilitators for combat and reconnaissance."
How are you different from humans? "Unit differs from local species in form, material composition, and durability. Unit capable of adapting to any environment with ease compared to local species, which is limited by need of biological organ structures to function in specific conditions."
Who, outside of the team, is your caretaker? "Operators give commands. Unit complies."
What about humanity fascinates you the most? "Local species seems to have wide range of biological traits that enable them to perform tasks at limits beyond those of their biological form. Some encounters defy logic. Further data needed to fully correlate findings."
Why do you care about the team? ...Well...this one depends on how things develop in game. The above answers would be given...if the "Unit" could remember it's central programming. I foresee this character being found in a wreck of some sort, and accidentally being activated/fought with/rescued by the team, who then...in an effort to learn what the hell it is...manage to reactivate it to a default "Memory Wiped" mode where it is much more easily programmed given command prompts, which causes it to then bond in a way with the team.
When Our Team First Came Together:
I think this would be best left to actually playing out in game. But I see it much as described above.
Relationships:
Again...depends on how things would develop in game...heh
Influence:
Noticing a trend? haha
Abilities:
Fantastic Elasticity (?) - Basically, its form is mostly composed of a strange series of interchangeable nano-parts that make up a greater whole. While 99.99% of the time, its form is completely solid and appears very robot-like, it can alter that form as needed to better fit the situation at hand or the environment it is in.
Super Durability and Strength - Alien Robot Strong and Tough!
Newborn Moves:
Regeneration
A Mind of Their Own
A Blank Slate:
I'd kinda like to let the group fill these Lessons in once the game gets going. So basically they could like, give an initial two "Commands" to my character, and then as more prompts open up, they can be filled in as usual during play.
With a bit more fighting, the Rune Giants fall to the assault of the Rangers. Once felled, the remaining giants begin blinking their eyes as if trying to clear them of an unseen cloud. The cloud giant recovers first, and immediately steps over and crushes the head of the remaining frost giant beneath his massive morningstar. The stone giants offer no shape of opposition to anyone present.
"You have freed me, and in turn my people," says the cloud giant as he looks down to you all. "The Stormreaver Clan has your eternal thanks. However, I must lead what remains of my people from this place before we become slaves once more."
The stone giant chiefs all nod their heads in agreement with this cloud giant chief. It is clear none of them have any desire to stay in Xin Shalast.
Current AC: 21 (AC 17, T 10, FF 16) | CMD 23 | Fort +7, Ref +3, Will +4 | Init +5 | Percept +11
Arctorus walked alongside the horses as the group traveled. When the caravan came into sight, and Lady Asta gave her command, Arctorus just went along with her orders. He wasn’t quite sure how best to guard his tongue, but he kept his jaws clenched and strains to cross his eyes and tilt his head enough to keep an eye on it through his teeth.
Quicker than intended post to explain my absence lately:
1. Kid: he’s okay, but been battling a virus for about a week and a half. Finally been symptom free for about two to three days.
2. Work: still working as much OT as I can grab.
3. Wife Aggro: anytime I so much as THINK I have free time to post, she uses her super-wife-mind-reading-powers to come up with something for me to not have free time. As is, I’m hiding in the bathroom to post this to all my games. Example 2, today was secretly planned to be a big day of relaxation and posting. She and the kid were supposed to be at school. Instead, she wanted me to keep the kid. Reason: just because.
4. Interviews: been to multiple interviews lately trying to get into a better job that will require less OT. No such luck so far, with one last major option within my hospital in process. Low odds of getting picked. May have to start looking outside of my facility.
I’m PLANNING on tomorrow being my 1 “me day” in the past few weeks and getting some posts caught up. We will see how that goes.
Sorry guys, GI Bug running through every member of the household on top of Christmas chores kept me from updating games as a DM. Finally free and gonna try to keep the pace going as best I can.
Flaith/Galendir:
The gathering around Galendir slowly begins to dwindle as the night wears on, though by the time it is down to just Galendir, he feels good that those he spoke with were all honorable and decent men, all a pleasure to spend time with.
As Domenicus dances with Flaith, she can't help but feel that he has something more he would like to discuss with her. However, it would seem the cat has his tongue, and before he can broach the subject, Festung guides Baron Varn to the floor to her for a dance. Maegar Varn, it would seem, is a bit more verbose.
"Yes, the business in Brevoy is a nasty one, and I hope my father and brothers weather it well. But I am responsible for the Varnling Host now, as you are to your people. Speaking of, what sort of goods are you looking to trade?"
Just then, a pair of guards come into the tent and head over to you and kneel. "My Queen, we have a situation."
Baron Varn steps away and bows, "I will leave you to it, Your Highness. I have matters to attend to as well. Thank you for hosting this festival, it has been a real treat," he then makes his way out of the tent flanked by a pair of his own guard.
Your guards, once alone with you and Galendir (the only two nobles of the kingdom in the tent), rise and say "It would appear there's been a murder. Four of them to be exact, ma'am. Sons of various merchant lords who came to the festival..."
Govannon:
Lithandra looks at you, a blush apparent on her cheeks. "Perhaps. We will have to see..." she says as she gives your hand a squeeze before she slips away. You make your way to the described meeting place a bit later, and there is a lantern lit within. The fabric is thick and dark, so no shadows can be seen on its surface from within. The banner flying above it bears the colors of Varnhold. There are a pair of Maegar Varn's guards standing watch near the entrance flap.
Using your magic, however, you are able to approach in relative safety, but you know your time is limited. By the time you arrive, you know you only have a couple of minutes to linger before the illusion fades. But, standing beside the tent, you clearly hear the voices of Baron Varn and Dolgrin.
"...an' these lands 'ere, thar's a right proper mine fer certain."
"Very well. Though I would like to claim the lake. You could have the lands south of that."
Dolgrin grumbles, "More bloody hills an' rivers. An' I dinnae know wha' I feel abou' 'avin those damned Mivon bastards as neighbors. Sticks in thar asses as long as thar swords."
Maegar Varn laughs. "True enough! But it could be worse. So, we are agreed then?"
"Aye, lad, I think we are. I think we kin' do this right proper, if we do it in tha next few months."
Naw, have at it partner. This is your show! Go carve some Z’s...I mean C’s...into their chests! Heh. But note that this festival, despite being late, has some night-time attractions (thanks to you) that has kept traffic active at all hours, so make sure to include a call for the guards. You get away cleanly...but how else is the legend of The Carnifex going to spread?
