"Now what do we have here?" Ferdinand turns over the amulet and holds it up, glances towards Mountain and back at the back of the amulet. "What do you know, they match. Now, what does this do, and why does it have the same pattern as Mountain?"
1d20+15
Very magic.
Mountain replies in his normal gravelly tones, with nothing showing any real emotion to the discovery of the amulet or the symbol on it.
"Warforged often bear markings for those they serve. While normally the marks indicate countries, I have only served Col. Ruing. I would guess the symbol is merely her personal symbol."
Mountain moves off, as though this comment closed the matter, and begins packing up items for whatever trip the group plans. He looks about the campsite for signs of any other living members of Oddjob, but doesn't expect to find anything.
Malick looks at the amulet.
"Y'all know she wouldn't take that off willingly." He shrugs.
"I'm for finding her. I got a yen to see what Blondie does to anyone to took her property. She's got a way with her."
He looks at the ropes and the horses and tries to decide if harnessing the beasts together is more, or less dangerous than riding into the mist individually.
"Don't know about the rest of you, but I'm real sure that carrying that thing is going to attract a lot of attention. You keep it Ferdinand."
He looks again from Mountain's breast plate to the amulet and then into the mist.
"There's no chance it's a map I suppose? Gotta say, that would be real convenient."
"Don't know about the rest of you, but I'm real sure that carrying that thing is going to attract a lot of attention. You keep it Ferdinand."
He looks again from Mountain's breast plate to the amulet and then into the mist.
"There's no chance it's a map I suppose? Gotta say, that would be real convenient."
"You're generous as always, I see." Ferdinand places it securely in his pack.
"Who cares either way? Maps don't do much good when you can't see five feet in front of you."
"I say we tie the horses together somehow. If we're going to get lost in that mist, I'd rather get lost with the rest of you."
"I don't know how eager I am to go back into those mists. Maybe we should find our way back to Breland."
"Always been generous, Ferdinand, it's my way."
Malick's smile is cheery as he moves to the horses, adding over his shoulder to Rennick,
"Got any idea where Breland is from here? I'm damned sure I don't."
"Let's see, Valenar's that way, Talenta's that way, which means Breland's back... that way...", says Ferdinand, pointing into the mists.
"Some great choices there. We can be massacred by crazed halflings, demolished by elves or get our brains rotted by magical mist. What's it going to be?"
"Some great choices there. We can be massacred by crazed halflings, demolished by elves or get our brains rotted by magical mist. What's it going to be?"
"Well, we can either fight our way down to the coast and hope we can find a boat, fight our way through Talenta, Karrnath and Thrane, or hope we can just go in a straight line through that."
The black X is were you are.
I also still need a religon checks from Malick, Mountain, Typhus and Rennik.
"One star down, four more to fall. Who knows where the devastation will stop and who can tell which way the wind will blow? Perhaps the one-eyed king is our salvation?" Typhus stares off into the distance and seems distracted.
He also uses 2 healing surges to get back up to full health.
Religion:
"You're so much fun when you're cryptic, Typhus."
Which way are you headed?
"Hmm, as much as I would rather not see the inside of those mists again, it is the shortest way back to Breland. Perhaps these mists aren't too deep, and we might find ourselves on the other side. I definitely think we ought to tether ourselves together, though."
Malick and Rennik
One of the charges of heresy against Jassolen was he belonged to a cult of Dragon worshipers.
"Uh." Memory pays an unwelcome visit.
"Rennick, remember that mad inquisitor Blondie had us kidnap a while back - the one who got fancy with a nail and tattooed his chest? I'm thinking I'm seeing connections here and I'm not sure I'm liking them. Guy was madder than a box of snakes and I've no mind to follow him."
Briefly, Malick outlines what happened to the rest of the group
"Anyone else sprouted unusual markings?"
"I always thought he made perfect sense?"
"No, I haven't felt like carving runes into my chest lately. What, have you?"
"I always thought he made perfect sense?"
"Typhus, you're a great friend and all, but I've met people who've chopped off their own arms who saner than you sometimes."
"I've done a lot of things in the way of entertainment, but carving up my own chest isn't one of them."
Malick grins and sets about roping the horses together.
"As for you, Typhus, Ferdinand's got it right there. Your notion of perfect sense makes that inquisitor look like Mr Entirely Normal. I wouldn't have it any other way, I'm just saying."
Mountain quietly comes up to the assembled group with a load of supplies, setting it down before he speaks. His deep, stony bass suddenly echoing forth after his complete silence while packing the supplies.
"While the mists may be quicker, we do not know what lays beyond them. At least to the north and south we know what threats we face. We must also assume the worst, that this mist may stretch well into Beland and beyond. If this were the case, entering it would prove quite foolish. Tactically, it would be best to scout the edges of this new activity to find its borders before we carry on."
"Sane. Insane. It's all semantics. Insects are eating us as we speak and the stars wait for us to sleep so they can eat our eyes. No matter what we do, we're doomed. Perhaps losing one's arm is the first step to gaining one's freedom."
Rennik quickly tries to steer the conversation away from Typhus's ramblings, and seizes upon Mountain's analysis of the situation as a good excuse not to go into the mists.
"My warforged friend has a good point. Perhaps we are better off skirting the perimeter of this mess, at a distance, mind you. In the confusion, the old tribal attitudes may not hold as strongly, and the elves or halflings may see a small band as the least of their concerns."
"It a world of choice out there. Question isn't if we're going home, just what we're going to invite to kill us on the way. Mountain may be in the right of it. homicidal elves and halflings ... met them, killed them. Homicidal mist is different. I like different."
He shrugs. "We need to find Blondie. Ain't nobody going to welcome us if we get back and she doesn't. We're kind of low on anybody's list of loved ones without her."
"It a world of choice out there. Question isn't if we're going home, just what we're going to invite to kill us on the way. Mountain may be in the right of it. homicidal elves and halflings ... met them, killed them. Homicidal mist is different. I like different."
He shrugs. "We need to find Blondie. Ain't nobody going to welcome us if we get back and she doesn't. We're kind of low on anybody's list of loved ones without her."
"To be fair, you can kill elves, you can't kill fog. Still, we got to find the boss. If nothing else, she's got to know something about all this."
"The day is darkest in the unlit places. Fates fall and all is madness. We ought to walk into the dark places to seek those who are truly lost."
"That almost made sense. You feeling OK?"
"That almost made sense. You feeling OK?"
"Your question assumes that any of us are "OK." I have seen the cold space between the stars that await us when we are weak and seek to steal the essence from your eyes. No one is OK."
"That's more like it. I was getting a mite worried there."
Rennik warily looks at this mist.
"It sounds like mists it is, then."
After packing up and tethering your horses Oddjob 101 heads into the mist surrounding Cyre.
The disorientation of the mist fades as you travel farther into its clinging embrace. Strands of fog coil around your arms like tentacles, mostly insubstantial. The mist is as dry as a desert wind; you would think it is just smoke from a fire but for the mist moving without wind and a general malaise it carries with it.
For over two hours you ride into the mist occasionally you find the warped bodies of Ruing’s Raiders laid out like a macabre bread crumb leading to the assembly point near Tronish.
Occasionally you see dark shadows in the mist traveling faster than a horse dart around the mist as if looking for something or someone.
Screams of pain come for one of the pack horses at the rear, looking back you see a dark grey fog enveloping the horse and stab at it with tentacles that become stained red with the horse’s blood.
The dying horse’s screams abruptly end and the tentacles of the grey fog focus on Oddjob 101.
Initiative please and tell me your placement.
"At least we're going in the right direction."
Ferdinand swears as the horse in the back is attacked, and he quickly draws his rod and points it back at the thing.
I'll be in H10 and init:
"At least we're going in the right direction."
Ferdinand swears as the horse in the back is attacked, and he quickly draws his rod and points it back at the thing.
1d20+15;1d20+12
You have never seen anything like this; it appears to be a rolling ball of dark grey mist with pseudo pods emerging a remerging at random. The closest thing that looks and acts like it that you have seen is a elemental in its primal form.
Fog Monster 17
Ferdinand 15
Typhus 8
Flint
Mountain
Rennik
Malick
If the creature wasn't made of floating mist you would think it's some kind of ooze.
Rennik 20
Fog Monster 17
Ferdinand 15
Typhus 8
Flint
Mountain
Malick
Added Malick's bonus to Rennik,ferdinand and Typhus.
Rennik 22
Malick 18
Fog Monster 17
Ferdinand 17
Typhus 10
Flint
Mountain
Rennik 22
Flint 22
Mountain 21
Malick 18
Fog Monster 17
Ferdinand 17
Typhus 10
[url=http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs50/f/2009/293/e/a/Fog_Monster_by_Xabulba.jpg]MAP[/url
Rennik is up.
Rennik quickly conjures an illusion to assail this mysterious creature as well as to obscure his own location.
Flint flies into battle bounding through the dense fog, swinging wildly at the monster and retreating slightly realizing the sheer size of the behemoth and unsure if he even connected on his attack
Rennik’s shadowy figures arise and attack the ball of mist that leave tails of dispersed smoke where they hit.
Flint bounds in into attack the creature his daggers striking but meeting little resistance as the daggers pass through the misty body. Flint realizing the peril of where he is standing tumbles away to a safer distance.
Rennik 22 (invisible)
Flint 22
Mountain 21
Malick 18
Fog Monster 17
Ferdinand 17
Typhus 10
Mountain is up.
"It looks as though weapons are not the best choice against this. I shall hold its attention as much as I can."
With those words quickly yelled out over the battlefield, Mountain dashes forward with a surprising speed. His mace flashes downward in an attempt to strike the creature.