RPG Superstar 2010 Top 16
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Valdisara, it sounds orcish to you. As your eyes begin to adjust to looking down the tunnel, it looks as if a patch of magical darkness is fading away.
Yalka, your arrow flies into the darkness, you hear that it's hit something hard. There doesn't seem to be much other reaction.
I will make hand signs to Valdisara and the others, pointing to our group and then to where the voices retreated,
and a questioning gesture, Asking whether we should follow them or not?
Martaug bristles as he hears the invisible undead shuffling away. After a moment he looks to Val "Raschka-Tor means fire mountain in my fadder's tongue. Dere's a huge mount over in da east part of Belkzen. Supposed'ta be da home'a some massively powerful red dragons. Dere obviously wantin' us ta find da weapon. Maybe dey wuz ta bring it ta da dragons long ago... a geas or curse ta be paid off? Dunno, but I don' like da sound'a any artifact goin' ta dem!"
Martaug bristles as he hears the invisible undead shuffling away. After a moment he looks to Val "Raschka-Tor means fire mountain in my fadder's tongue. Dere's a huge mount over in da east part of Belkzen. Supposed'ta be da home'a some massively powerful red dragons. Dere obviously wantin' us ta find da weapon. Maybe dey wuz ta bring it ta da dragons long ago... a geas or curse ta be paid off? Dunno, but I don' like da sound'a any artifact goin' ta dem!"
Valdisara nods in agreement at the half-orc. "Well, either way we probably should investigate the caves and see what we find. We may be walking into a trap, but if we leave now without seeking it, we are only leaving it for them to get as soon as the water is drained.... assuming we trust the gnome that is."
She glances at Yalka and then the rest of the group before stating, "I prefer to have my enemies before me rather than at my back, so my inclination is to follow and engage them. Of course, again it could be a trap.." Her voice trails off as she looks to the others for their input.
"While I tend to agree, what if it is a delibrate attempt to lead us away so one of them may slip in and seal it, a distraction so to speak..."
Breathing slowly, uncomfortable at our situation of non-action and ambiguity,
I whisper to to Valdisara or whoever is nearest by: "Yalka check on horses. Talk more outside."
After a moment, I add "Valdisara have sharp sense for these Undead. Good."
So I'll step outside the cave and around the corner, hopefully more out of earshot of the Blackspears.
If any follow me outside, I'll add:
"Yalka want fight coward bandits who attack barn, but remember Shadow-Creature who weapon not touch.
With Holy Man gone, follow now maybe dangerous and we not win. What you think?"
A heavy scowl marring his craggy features, Grumblenaught lowers his weapon as the chilling voice retreats into the caverns. "Bah. Ain't worth the wastin' of a bolt."
He kicks at a loose rock in frustration before looking to the others, resentment smoldering in his eyes. "Mighty arrogant of 'em, t' assume we'd be doin' their dirty work for 'em. Seems clear t'me that they can't pass th' water, an are impatient fer their loot... not wantin' ta wait 'til the windmills pump it all out."
Stumping outside to join Yalka under the welcoming sun, the dwarf continues his tirade. "I ain't one t' care much fer riches, jes' so that the folk I care about are fed an' happy. I ain't one fer worship an' churches an' their crusades neither, but I am fer gettin' these rotting bandits dead fer good, an' if it takes the fetching of a relic ta do that, well, sign me up."
Waiting for the others to re-emerge, he mutters "Jes means the fightin' has t'be on our terms, not theirs..."
Martaug and the wolf head outside, too. Both throw glances and growls over their shoulders as they go, throwing distrustful looks at the darkness. Out in the embrace of the sun, the half-orc's shoulders raise and he closes his eyes to embrace the radiant warmth.
"I agree wid ya. I'm not partial ta da idea'a rushin' inta some advantageous trap'a deir devisin'. Dey may be unnatural, but jus' like any preditor, dey'll be strongest in deir home territory. I also don't tink dat any light I'm able'ta summon will be equal ta erase dere unnatural blot'a darkness. I tink Yalta an' I stan' a better chance'a finding da relic, while da wolf helps ya guard against any attack up top."
A couple of reminders and clarifications:
- You have beaten enemies who were wielding a couple of weapons that detected as magic, but you've chosen to leave them back at the farmhouse.
- Gunlar described the cave with treasure as being dry. And what he described were crates and boxes, not a weapon.
- The celestial weapon that Kara and Valdisara know about was lost in battle, and probably not carried by the Blackspeares, whose reputation included steering clear of god-aligned treasure.
Grunting at Grumblenaught's sentiment, I add:
"Yalka think these Black Spears not worth rotten dog hide when they still alive. But they cowardice and tricks make seem we not fear them attack us now, if they want us get something.
What Valdisara think? Boy Gunlar talk of crates & treasure. Sound like old cache of Bandits?
If alot stuff, many trips of swim to carry all up. Yalka hope other way out..."
"If we not sure what do now, Yalka think better return Barn."
The paladin frowns at the options before the group, liking neither. Following Grumble's lead, she steps towards the exit and motions the others near. Speaking in a low voice, she says, "I like this not. We left the farm to hunt these undead, and cannot in good conscience let them survive. We came here seeking access to their caves and the chance that the mace of legend I spoke of yesterday was here somehow, thinking it might aid us in our efforts against them. However, we do not have the time to look for whatever the boy found - at least not at the moment. As I said, I do not like leaving enemies at our backs, and with no other information about the tunnel he was in, we could search for days. The important thing is to destroy the evil here. I say we prepare for battle with them, and end their suffering."
Turning to look at Yalka, Valdisara nods in approval as she says, "Your thoughts on the water are good. I may be able to tell if it is sanctified if I had a sample... Anything we can use to aid us in the fight to come, we should take. As for returning to the farm, why would that be of use?"
"My ancestor has given me power to shatter the undead with a minor ability, I can also do fire damage, if this helps" Sachiko offers to the group...
Yalka raises her brows and shrugs: "Maybe Sa-chiko go first, then?"
I'll tie one of my water-pouches to the rope and lower and raise it, obtaining a "sample" for Val.
"Yalka think no. Boy say he swim deep, but it not take days find this."
"A month big time. If we die, then stop wind-mill-thing also give more time to Deputy.
But Yalka not plan die, so no think need do. Better make good plan kill Bandits."
First, is this a mace or a spoon (or was that just a joke before?)
According to legends, it was originally an honest-to-goodness spoon from the upper heavens. It was brought to the material planes and recast as a mace through the dying work of an Aasimar smith named Huninn. He'd been poisoned and knew himself to be cursed to rise as an undead champion of Ravagog. Hunin's last act was to take the still-burning mace, attach it to a brass chain hanging over the forge, and send it arcing away. He died, and was immediately struck by the weapon on its return swing, which destroyed his new form.
It is for this reason that the mace, though a powerful holy weapon, has no fancy decorative inlay or silver filigree work. Time was of the essence.
Yalka, you can certainly lower a rope and gather a waterskin-ful of the water.
Valdisara, how would you like to go about checking to see if this is, indeed, blessed? (Detect Evil won't work, because it doesn't detect goodness.)
As you discuss your options, Kara and Grumblenaught both spy a young man in the distance, perhaps twelve or fourteen years old. He's approaching from the west, and looks like his path will take him to the north of your position. He's moving rapidly, but looks as if he's already travelled a couple of miles.
Grumblenaught, he looks familiar. You take a moment to place him: he was one of the boys gathered around Old Cale.
"Oh man..."
Valdisara, how would you like to go about checking to see if this is, indeed, blessed?
My first thought was to examine the sample in the waterskin, to see if it gave off the "vibe" that I felt earlier in regards to a consecrated area - skillwise, the only thing I can think of that would be relevant would be an educated guess using Knowledge: Religion. Assuming I get nothing definitive from the first two options, I will, with a silent prayer for Iomedae's discernment, drink a mouthful hoping for an epiphany.(]
You sample the water. Good idea, but nothing.
Knowledge: Religion doesn't tell you much about holy water.
- It needs to start out as pure water.
- Consecrating holy water is one of the first spells a cleric typically learns.
- Clerics of different gods create virtually identical holy water (that is, there doesn't appear to be any difference between, say, Shelyn's holy water and Erastil's.
- One temple of Pharasma was accused once of selling simple spring water as holy water; they set up a special "testing bone" that would sizzle if placed in holy water.
- Animating a mouse skeleton would do the same job.
You pray and drink the water. No epiphany, but it is certainly cool and refreshing.
--+--+--
The youngster sees you, recognizes Yalka and Grumblenaught, and changes course towards you. As he approaches, you can see he's haggard and out of breath.
"Look like lesson not hold..." (for Boy)
Martaug squints at the approaching boy and doesn't recognize him straight-away. "Who's he? He one'a da town boys? Should't otta be out here."
He gently pats the wolf to get it's attention and sniffs the air, hoping the wolf will start doing the same.
The lad approaches within 50 feet or so, and then sinks to his knees in exhaustion. At this distance, you can also tell that he's bleeding, wounded under his right arm.
After a couple of gulps of air, he looks up at Grumblenaught. "It's Andolph," he gasps. "I think he's dead."
By the way, the boy who asked to accompany you was named Stooch. This isn't him.
I approach the boy after grabbing my Heal Kit.
Assuming nothing I notice dissuades me, I set about to fix up his wound,
trying to think what could have caused it: Perception: 24, Heal: 26 (Nat. 20)
"Where Andolph?", I ask him... ("Who Andolph?", I think) "What hurt you?"
I approach the boy after grabbing my Heal Kit.
Assuming nothing I notice dissuades me, I set about to fix up his wound,
trying to think what could have caused it.
Excellent.
It's piercing damage, done by a weapon.
"Where Andolph? What hurt you?"
"Back by the windmill. We -- Cale. Cale killed 'im."
"Back by the windmill. We -- Cale. Cale killed 'im."
A tremendous scowl twists Grumblenaught's face. "Kilt him a-purpose?!" he asks, eyeing the lad from below knotted brows. "An' did he try t'kill you as well?"
His heart heavy, the dwarf closes his eyes as he waits for the boy to catch his breath.
"I think so, yeah... I mean, yes sir.
"After you'd come by and talked of treasure and stuff, Stooch and a couple of the other boys decided they'd see about finding the windmill Cale had been a-talkin' about. Well, it didn't take Andolph until after dinner to get directions from his aunt, and so yesterday mornin' we set out, the four of us, to see what was up.
"We kind of got lost, then, south of here, when a pack of, um, well Stooch thinks they's wolf skeletons, or something, set upon us. We ran away and got clear of them, but it took us till night to catch up with each other. Percydar decided he'd had enough and went back to town, and the three of us slept in the woods last night and came to the mill this morning.
"And Cale was already there, and he was angry with the seein' of us, and he waved at us like to he was castin' a spell or somethin', and Andolph made this terrible, terrible face, and fell down. He turned all dark and kept graspin' at his throat like he couldn't breathe.
"And then he drew his blade, the one with the red hilt, the one that he'd won as a gamblin' prize goin' up against the darakhul down in the sunless lands. And he came after me, and I ran, but he stabbed me in the back, and I just kept running.
"There was an awful amount of blood at first, and then it sort of petered off..."
And he slumps to the ground in a daze. He's lost some blood, but his wound is clean and he's in no real danger of dying, assuming he spends a week in bed under care.
A small, inadvertent growl leaks from Martaug's lips when the boy mentions wolf skeletons, but he quickly checks his emotion at the perversion of nature.
"Who's da Cole guy? I don't know 'im from town, either. If he's defendin' da windmill an' killin' off kiddies, maybe we should go an' shut dat down first. It could throw a kink inta da Blackspeare's plans."
Grumblenaught
Add as many details to the following as you like; I trust you.
- Cale's a retired adventurer; so far as you've known him, he's hung out in Carrion Hill, trading stories and lore for room and drink. He has money squirreled away somewhere, but your impression is that it's showing signs of growing thin.
- He's always refused to answer direct questions about his history, but sometimes he lets some detail or another slip when he's describing something else.
- He was definitely an adventurer, in whatever sense of the word you like. Not always a mercenary, although he might have hired out once in a while. Not necessarily the good guys, but perhaps not villains, either. Out for excitement, and cash.
- Cale's not quite human. He's always been sopping wet, and that seems normal for him.
- You get the sense that something went wrong, and that's what retired him from adventuring, but he won't say what. Likely, he got somebody else killed, or made a powerful enemy.
"Who's da Cole guy?"
The boy looks up at Martaug. "Cale? Why, he's an old explorer. Hired out sometimes, too, says he sold his sword for the chance to find treasure and lore.
"Somehow, it doesn't seem so exciting when the sword's aimed at you and your friends.
"Cale says that the genies cursed him, 'cause he used to be their friend, but some other -- some lady named Paleiamber got paid to work against 'em, and she lied and said Cale was partnered up in that. When we heard about the Blackspeares' booty, we figured there might be some way of getting ahold of those genies and askin' them to take Cale back."
I narrow my eyes at the boy's words.
"Yalka meet Cale. He very wet but act like normal... Crazy head.
No trust him, if he not ask join us, but sneak behind us without offer help family.
Maybe he work with Blackspears or other bandits, maybe not, but not good honor."
Turning my attention back to the boy, I ask "Where Stooch, then?",
thinking of the trouble-seeking boy I thought I had convinced back in town.
"I don't --
"B-back there. With Cale."
A sudden, cold wind whips up from the south, scattering birds who had been roosting in nearby trees. They all take wing, calling loudly to one another as they fly off.
"What? What he do back there with Cale?
I know Stooch already, you know.
Yalka was one try tell Stooch bad idea to come up here."
The boy shakes his head weakly. "No. No ... Stooch was with us when we met ... Cale? There??"
Martaug shrugs "Dey could presage somethin', but dey may'a just taken wing wid da breeze." He cocks his head to listen. If nothing else happens for a moment, he looks at the others "Well, wanna go see if we can recover dis boys body an' wreck da windmill at da same time? Da boy can stick wid us fer safety in numbers an den head back ta da farm fer da night."
It takes Grumblenaught some time to find words, and when they come, finally, they are terse and hollow. "Cale." He kneels next to the wounded boy, putting a surprisingly gentle hand on his forehead before continuing. "Known him several years now - ain't surprised t'hear he is wantin' a piece of whatever excitement is goin' on, but I ne'er figgered t'have him desperate enough t'hurt youngsters in order t' snatch a few coins t' refill his purse."
The dwarf nods in response to Martaug's suggestion, his eyes hardening. "May be that I misjudged him when I called him friend, but I am aimin' t'have an accountin' fer his deeds, an' then we'll truss him up an' let the Magistrates do what they will."
Off to the windmill / pumphouse, then?
That would take you another three miles or so to the west, opposite the direction of the Rolsen farmstead. But it would be sloer going: the grasses and shrubs are taller, and it's almost all up a long, gradual hill.
Gazing up at the lonely clouds drifting across the sky high above the foothills,
I shrug and say "Let go". Before leaving,
I spit disparagingly into the cave, towards the Blackspears.
If the others are on foot, I'll be leading my horse by it's reins, letting the boy ride if he wants. Armed w/ my Spear, Bow on my back, Backpack on Horse.
Off to the windmill / pumphouse, then?
That would take you another three miles or so to the west, opposite the direction of the Rolsen farmstead. But it would be sloer going: the grasses and shrubs are taller, and it's almost all up a long, gradual hill.
The paladin listens to the boy's tale and the comments by the others before letting out a deep sigh. "The living are more important than the dead. If there is a chance one of these children still lives and is in danger, we should head to the windmill at once. The dead can be put to rest after.."
Yalka, not necessarily. There's still plenty of sunlight available to go back to the Rolsen's farmhouse and get one of the wight's spears. (And perhaps drop the lad off, too.)
"Maybe good leave boy with Hilden & Gunlar, heal wounds in safe...?"
Turning to the boy, I more gently tell him:
"Family live close who take care you. Safer stay them. Boy your age play.
If not see us long time, you ride back town farmer wagon."
Yalka, it won't overtax your horse. But you will need to make a Survival roll to avoid getting lost on the way through unfamiliar territory.
Or the other PC's can leave a clear trail for you to follow.
While you're back there, did you want to grab anything else?
Before setting off to the barn with bandaged boy in tow, I'll clarify as to the group's planned route, and agree on some bird calls, so it'll be easier to find them and let them know when I'm coming near. Any requests for stuff at the Barn?
Before setting off to the barn with bandaged boy in tow, I'll clarify as to the group's planned route, and agree on some bird calls, so it'll be easier to find them and let them know when I'm coming near. Any requests for stuff at the Barn?
Valdisara nods in approval at Yalka. "Good idea, the boy will be much safer with the others at the Roslen's farm. The rest of us will go to the mill and see what is going on."
[Does the party know that the weapons detected as magical? If so, then I would say it would be prudent to grab them.
Yes. There are two spears, each detecting as magic, but not glowing. They have three runes repeating along the edge. On one spear, the runes run all the way from the blade to the back. On the other, they only go back about halfway.
--+--
Since we're getting into a potentially lethal battle, I don't want to be dragging a lot of dormant PCs into danger. I'm going to assume that your character is also back at the farmstead unless and until you state otherwise.