Vengeance IC (Solo Game)

[Sir Newton Fig]

As your vision gradually returns, it takes you a moment to process the sight that awaits you. The bodies of your tormentors, four teenage bullies, lay strewn around you. But what happened to them? As the feeling returns to your hands, you discover an unlikely explanation -- a board, which you deduce to have been torn from a cart parked outside the building next to you, weighs heavily in your hands. You can barely even lift the cumbersome cudgel, but the blood on its edges and the wounds inflicted upon the boys about you suggest a strength that perhaps you didn't know you had.

But how? And why? You try to replay the exchange in your mind. It wasn't the names or the pushing; you're more collected than to let a few small time bullies get under your skin. Perhaps it was because of the vials of ink -- supplies for your master -- that they ruined. After all, this would have been the second time this week you'd returned without everything you were sent to collect. But a few vials of ink seems like awfully small potatoes over which to commit such an unfettered act of retaliation. There must be something you are missing.

You've heard of blind rage. But to black out entirely like this? It doesn't seem to fit. Something feels unnatural about this, and you don't fully feel like yourself. You have no recollection of the moments leading up to this scene, yet you instinctively know you are responsible. It's not just the weapon in your hands, it's a feeling in the back of your mind. It's like your body remembers the motions, skillfully executing every blow; but it's almost as if they were orchestrated by someone -- or something -- else.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see one of the boys move: one of them is still conscious. You are pulled for a moment from your self contemplation to survey the scene in more detail. You are standing in the middle of a lane about fifty yards from where it intersects with one of the main thoroughfares in town. Your master's business lies down this lane, and it is here that these boys would haunt you every day as you ran your errands. Now three of the boys lie inert, bleeding badly. They will almost certainly need aid if they are to survive. The fourth lies incapacitated, but attempting to crawl away. He mutters, defeatedly, "Don't finish me off, please. Just stay away." You can tell he is sobbing, and very clearly terrified of you.

You are far from alone here. A number of passers-by stopped to survey the scene, and now stare at you with frightful expressions. Even the grown men among them, some of whom you figure to be labourers by their build and attire, dare not approach. They whisper among themselves, and you can pick out a few common fragments -- like the words "possessed", and "monster". You figure it is only a matter of time before you are at the hands of the law, if not worse.

[Karthas077]

Seradin manages to drop the board he's clutching, and struggles to slow his breath. It'll be okay... I just have to... have to... unable to finish the thought, panic suddenly begins to set in. Oh god, what just happened, what just... I need to get out of here! With that realization, the anxiety seems to dissipate, and Seradin takes a moment to survey the ground for any of the supplies he had been sent to gather. It probably didn't matter now, but most of them had already been paid for by his Master, and leaving them on the ground wouldn't be doing any favors for his business. Moving quickly, his shaking hands slowly growing steadier, he quickly grabs one of the few intact vials of ink, and a few of the surviving pieces of both parchment and paper.

With his hands once more full, he quickly stands up, and darts rapidly down the lane towards the house where his master lives and works. A backwards glance reveals that some of the onlookers had since approached the unconscious boys, and that only a few were glancing his way. Though he didn't think many of them would recognize who he was, he knew the boys would once they woke back up. As he rushed through the door leading to the back of the shop and his small excuse of a room, he realized that his fragment of a plan, formed in a moment of panic, no longer helped.

Where am I supposed to live...? he thought, dropping the supplies on the ground outside his room. He had saved up a fair amount of gold over the last two years, considering he only got a third of anything he made on commission, and the rest had been spent on an occasional meal out. Reaching under his mattress, he pulled out the purse with the rest of his money. He wished he understood why this was happening to him. Had he done something to deserve all this? The realization of what leaving would mean was finally settling in as he tried to gather his few belongings together. He still had some of the leftover supplies from one of the commissions his master had let him take on his own, so he raced to the back room to grab those as well, throwing them quickly into a small scroll case to make it easier to carry.

Back at his room, he realized he didn't own very much... certainly not enough to make it to the next town on his own... He'd definitely need to stop by a few shops on his way... his way where? Where was he going to go? He still hadn't figured that out... The closest town was a days ride away, and at least two on foot. But even if he got there, what was he to do? Try to find another scrivener to work for? What about when they asked him about his old master? The sudden realization that none of his plans would matter if he was arrested for almost killing those boys shocked him out of his daze once more. He'd figure something out. He had to. It was either that or jail.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seradin saw his master returning from delivering a tome to one of his more frequent customers. The man had a strange obsession with ancient lore, but it meant good money for the shop if they could find a copy of the book in question. He lived on the opposite side of town from where the shops were, which is why he had been sent out to gather the supplies they ordered, but he was back now. Seradin had almost finished packing, and was about to race for the back door when his master noticed him.

[Sir Newton Fig]

"Seradin!" the elderly man calls out as he closes the door behind him. "Are you back yet?" He catches a glimpse of you as he makes his way to his office. He continues to speak as he walks, and you suppose that he has not immediately noticed your panic, or that you are packing your things. "I have another important contract for Mister Furwick that I would like you to start work on immediately. Did you collect my package of inks and parchment for me like I asked? I don't see it here on my desk."

[Karthas077]

"Master Erlan!" The name blurts out of Seradin's mouth before he has a chance to think. "I... er... Didn't expect you to be back so soon..." The vortex of emotions which swirled around inside him left Seradin almost speechless. Though he and the master had never been especially close, the old man had always been kind to him, and he decided it wouldn't be fair for him to leave without saying something. His mind made up he set down the bag with all of his belongings in it and walks somewhat nervously towards the aging scrivener. Placing what remained of the order on the desk, he speaks cautiously, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm sorry master... I lost the inks... Something happened and I need to leave. I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me, but I've already packed and I can't stay for much longer." As he says this, he glances towards the door nervously, expecting the town guards to appear at any moment.

Seradin's master's full name is Wildor Erlan.
I'll be using grey for both Seradin's spoken words as well as his internal dialogue. The former will be in quotes and the latter in italics. Hopefully that should prevent any confusion about what Seradin's actually thinking, and what he's being described as thinking. (Though the difference should be subtle XP)

[Sir Newton Fig]

The old man scowls. "I'm afraid I'll be taking that out of your wages then, my boy," he notes, sternly, as he accepts what remains of his supplies. The urgency of the situation is clearly lost upon him. "Now what's all this about packing? I'll have you know I'd be perfectly lost without a good apprentice right now. Why don't you calm down for a moment and tell me what's going on here?"

[Karthas077]

"Something happened to some of the boys in the lane, and I think the guards are going to hold me responsible... I don't really have time to explain, and I don't fully understand myself... Anyways... I'm sure you'll find another apprentice soon. Perhaps one of Relkin's boys? They might be a little young, but I'm sure their family could use the money..." Seradin averted his gaze as he finished speaking. He knew Thermar and Orswin. They were the miller's sons, and had no experience with fine work. They did however have a lot of patience, and their mother had been teaching them their letters since they were young. It probably wouldn't be the best, but it would be better than nothing until Master Elran found a more suitable apprentice.

Heading back to his quarters, Seradin picked up his bag once more. He could see the lack of understanding in his master's eyes, but there really wasn't enough time to explain any more, even if he COULD explain what had happened... He almost wished someone would show up and explain it to the both of them, but for now, all he could do was get out of the city. "I'm sorry to have to go like this, but I don't know how much time I have left."

[Sir Newton Fig]

Wildor nods in acknowledgement, but his face still casts a look of puzzlement. "If that is how it must be," he says, "then be off -- quickly. And do keep safe, my boy." His voice is sombre, like a father bidding his son goodbye.

Just as you are about to lift the latch on the door, you see a pair of guards patrolling up the lane, their gaze scanning to and fro as if in search of someone. That someone is no doubt you. You frantically play out your options in your mind -- hide here, escape through the back, confront the guards -- but your fear is replaced with a moment of relief as they soon pass by your master's home and onward. Regardless, they are no doubt on your trail, and you will have to exercise great caution in your escape.

[Karthas077]

As the pounding in his chest slows, Seradin takes a deep breath before glancing once more out into the lane. Though he had been fortunate enough that the guards had now known where he lived, he couldn't count on that luck again. First thing's first, he'd need a change of clothes. His current attire just wouldn't do for traveling, and it might help throw people off his trail if he was wearing a different outfit.

Luckily, there was a tailor's shop not far, only a few blocks away. Trying to keep his head down, Seradin set out for the shop, hoping he wouldn't run into any trouble on the way.

((Barring any plans for something to happen to him on his way to the tailor's, I will continue here)):

As he reached the shop's entrance, he glanced about, before ducking inside. The tailor was a kind fellow,and it wasn't long before Seradin was sporting a sturdier pair of boots along with a fresh pair of breeches and a shirt. To top it off he now had a cloak with a nice hood. Hopefully like this he'd be able to get out of the city without attracting the attention of the guards. As he stepped out once more into the street and looked around, he adjusted the cloak's hood, before walking more slowly now towards the nearest gate out of the town.

[Sir Newton Fig]

You detour through the residential side streets and rejoin the main thoroughfare just before it reaches the gate in the perimeter wall at the north tip of the city. It takes you about half an hour, but you manage to arrive without seeing any more guards. With a little luck, your impromptu disguise will be sufficient for you to get past the pair posted at the gate -- but what then?

Can I get you to roll a Disguise check? Add a +5 to the check for changing "minor details only".

[Karthas077]

Checking that the cloak covers his head fairly well, Seradin tries to reassure himself that the guards can't have gotten too good of a description of him,and walks towards the gate. Even though he's worried that he looks suspicious with his hood up, the air is not too warm for it to be especially unusual. As he gets closer, his heart begins to race once more. If anything was going to happen it was going to be now, and it takes a great deal of willpower not to start running as he gets closer.


[roll0]

[Sir Newton Fig]

You are able to get past the gates without so much as a second glance. If anyone has offered up a description of you to the guards, it's either far enough off the mark for you to pass under their radar, or the word hasn't yet reached this particular post. After all, with the rolling farmland surrounding the city, and the lumber and mining camps in the hills on the northern edge of the valley, enough people pass in and out of this gate all of the time that you actually stand out fairly little indeed.

You carry onward along the road for another ten minutes before stopping to relax. Until this moment, your escape has been entirely guided by adrenaline (and a little luck); with a moment to collect your thoughts, you now realize exactly how alone you are.

Can I get Knowledge: Geography and Knowledge: Local checks? They'll determine how much detail we should go into with regard to the surrounding geography, nearby towns and other points of interest, and other common local occurrences.

[Sir Newton Fig]

Now that you have a moment to think, you pick your memories for everything you can recall about your surrounding area. You've rarely set foot outside of the city, so most of your worldly knowledge comes either from that which you have transcribed while in your master's service, or from bits and pieces you've heard in passing conversation. Thankfully, Master Elran did have a map of the valley in his study, and so you are able to conjure a passable visual of your surroundings.

You now stand outside the city of Whitbloom, the only home you've ever known. Whitbloom is situated roughly in the center of a valley that runs east-west, nestled between the arms of the sprawling Ironhold Mountains. To the south, opposite the city, is the river that runs along the length of the valley from the mountains in the east and down to the Lightbeach Coast in the west. Farms lie in every direction around the city, along the river, and on both sides of the road ahead of you. The fields around you glisten like a wavy mirage, spotted with the snowy-white wildflower from which the city derives its name.

Millennia ago, a winding river carved its way down this valley from the heart of the mountains in the east, and the city of Whitbloom was built around a bend in the river that pooled, forming a lake. The entire valley was once filled from end to end with vibrant, deciduous forest. The hills themselves are rich in minerals, and the valley soil made perfect farmland as the forest was gradually cut back from the river. Whitbloom was founded upon a lucrative lumber and mining trade; while the lumber trade has primarily been replaced by the lush farms that flank the river, the mines in the northern hills of the valley are still going strong. It is about a few hours' walk along the road to the north to reach the foot of the hills.

About a day's ride to the east, where the valley is swallowed by the mountains, there is a tiny village by the name of Valley's Rest. Valley's Rest is little more than a resting place for travellers, merchants and adventurers who seek to traverse the mountains to the east and save themselves the long trek around. Mountaineers usually offer guided passage over Winterdell Crossing -- for a fee.

A day's ride to the west will instead bring you to the river's end at Lake Corsair (which is really more of a small inland sea, as it opens to the ocean). The port town of Corsair is built along the lake's southern shore, and is a hub for commerce and travel. Barges often travel downriver from Whitbloom loaded with goods for export, which can sometimes save a traveller some time en route to the coast.

Northward, about another 15 minutes along the road on which you currently stand, is a crossroads where the paths to all of these destinations diverge. At the crossroads can be found an inn and stables. You remember this place clearly, as you once delivered a book to an old colleague of your master's who had been staying there. It could be a good choice for a place to rest and seek passage to your next destination; but it could also be the first place the guards might look if they cared enough to try to find you.

[Karthas077]

Shouldering his bag once more, Seradin takes a glance behind him towards the gate and the pair of guards standing watch, before setting off once more towards the inn he knows lies ahead. As he walks, he tries to figure out what he's going to do next. The minutes pass, and no plan forms in his mind. The outline of the buildings up ahead are just starting to become visible, and off in the distance the mountains surrounding the valley stretch lazily towards the sky.

As he draws near, and the last of the adrenaline wears off, Seradin realizes just how tired he feels, and how pristinely alone he is. In the morning he'll have to come up with a plan, perhaps he can find a city not too far off that he can ply his trade at. For now though, he just wants a place to rest.

Seradin pushes open the door to the inn, and steps inside, peering about as he does so. As he expected, there are not an especially large number of people inside, but the place is not completely empty either. As the door swings shut behind him, he takes a deep breath, before walking towards the person he suspects owns the place.

[Sir Newton Fig]

The foyer of the inn in which you stand is fairly plain, with little to show in the form of decor. The majority of its clientele are local labourers, so there is little need to be flashy. It is now mid afternoon, so there aren't a great many bodies about; you can hear a few handfuls of folks in the dining area to your right catching an early dinner, and that's about it.

As you let the door close behind you, an agitated woman storms into the foyer from the dining area. She heaves a distressed sigh and takes a seat behind the counter in front of you. She appears to be in her 40s, is clothed in a dark grey working dress with a white apron, and her greying hair is tied tightly up in a bun atop her head. You figure her to be the hostess.

"Yes dear?", she grumbles as you approach, in a harsh tone you could cut with a knife. "What can I do for you now?"

[Karthas077]

Somewhat startled by the woman's tone, Seradin pauses for a moment before clearing his throat and speaking. "I apologize if I come at a bad time, but I needed a warm meal and a place to rest my head for the evening." As he speaks, he glances about at the other patrons and examines them more thoroughly, hoping to perhaps find the source of the proprietors distress.


[roll0]
looking for suspicious things

[roll1]
Trying to get a 'feel' of what's wrong. (Hunch)

Edit: nat 1 on a perception roll. Thank god I wasn't looking for traps or something like that.

[Sir Newton Fig]

"Just for tonight, or are you planning on staying longer?" she asks wearily as she flips open her guest ledger. Despite her outward bluntness, you get the feeling she doesn't have any problem with you specifically. She's probably just having a bad day.

[Karthas077]

Relieved that he had apparently not done anything wrong, Seradin relies, "Just for the one night." He reaches into his coin-purse before continuing, "How much do I owe you?"

[Sir Newton Fig]

"A gold will get you the room, a dinner, and a breakfast before you hit the road," she replies. "What's the name, dear?"

[Karthas077]

For a moment Seradin considers lying about his name before he realizes how absolutely pointless that would be. "Seradin," he responds, as he pulls a single gold coin out and places on the counter before her. Judging from how high the sun was, he guessed he still had a few marks before food was even ready to be served, and a quick nap would help to clear his mind. "If you can just point me to my room, I'll get out of your hair ma'am."

If my units of time ever confuse you let me know. In fantasy settings I typically use the 'mark' measure of passing time. One mark is approximately an hour (denoted by marks on the wax of a burning candle). It's not super accurate but it makes it feel more real to me.

Also, if she just tells him how to get to his room, or she walks him there herself, he thanks her and gives her a silver piece for her troubles.

(deducting money from character sheet now)

[Sir Newton Fig]

After scribbling your name in her ledger and accepting your coin, the hostess sighs apologetically. "Of course, right this way," she says, this time with an air of humility. Perhaps your comment about getting out of her hair helped her realize she was barking at the wrong person.

She proceeds to lead you up a set of stairs at the rear of the foyer. At the top, you continue down a hallway above the dining area, dimly lit only by a window at the far end. After passing three pairs of doors, she stops to unlock the fourth door on the right and hands you the key. "You can just drop that key off with me on your way out in the morning. If you need anything else, just come and find me. Dinner will be served in two marks. Well, for most of our guests, at least." She mutters that last pointed remark somewhat under her breath. You suspect it to be related to the source of her foul demeanor a moment ago.

"I hope you have a pleasant stay," she concludes. She graciously accepts your tip, then heads back downstairs.

Your room is nothing elegant. The bed is small and old, with a single pillow, linen sheet and a plain wool blanket for warmth. A small nightstand table is positioned next to the bed, and hosts a small unlit candle. A window is centered on the far wall, and looks out over the road in front of the inn. There is a chest of drawers in the corner next to the window.

I rather like that timekeeping idea, actually. It gives skilled candlemakers a certain prestige, too. Very flavorful.

[Karthas077]

Though curious what she meant by that last comment, Seradin walks over to the bed and places his bag underneath before sitting down on the firm mattress. Two marks, he thought, Plenty of time to get a quick rest before dinner. As he lay upon his bed dozing, he realized that he hadn't eaten since the morning, and hoped the meal for the evening would be something filling. As his thoughts drifted into a light slumber, he thought back to whatever had upset the hostess so, and hoped that whatever, or whoever, it was wouldn't mean any trouble for him.


'sleep' for approx. 2 marks, probably a little less.

[Sir Newton Fig]

You pass the next couple of hours in a restless, half-asleep state, unable to find any real peace. The events from earlier in the day keep racing through your idle mind, and you keep trying to fill in the blanks -- but come up short.

You are stirred from your idleness by the smell coming from the floor below. It would appear dinner is ready. Maybe you're just particularly hungry, but it smells good.

[Karthas077]

Seradin stirs for a few moments before awakening to the smells from below. Through his still foggy mind, the persistent rumble of his stomach rouses him from his bed. As he stretches and makes his way down the hall and towards the stairs, his thoughts slowly clear. Stifling a small yawn, he reaches the common room of the inn, and searches for a few moments for an open table in what he hopes will be a comfortable section of the room. Choosing a spot near the wall opposite the stairs, and as far from the doorway as possible, Seradin takes a seat and examines the movements of the people in the room, as he awaits the assistance of someone who works at the inn.

I'll just rely on passive perception for anything out of the ordinary happening in the room, and if someone comes over to ask what he wants or something to that effect, he'll take something non-alcoholic for a beverage and just whatever food it is that he's smelling because it's good XD

[Sir Newton Fig]

It is quite a few minutes before a server is with you. The dining staff seem to have their hands full with a table near the center of the room, inhabited by a group of rugged looking men -- five of them humans, and one of them a dwarf. The group is being rather boisterous, and the stacks of dirtied dishes would make it seem that they've been working off a hefty appetite.

When your server finally arrives, she seems nearly as flustered as the hostess was earlier. After checking your name against a list of guests, she brings you a tankard of water with your dinner (which is a fairly tasty lamb stew with biscuits).

As the server passes by the table at the center on her way to the kitchen, the dwarf reaches over and pinches her behind, startling her. While she exercises every ounce of restraint she can muster not to lay into him with the nearest carving knife, he makes an unsavoury and suggestive gesture to his dinnermates, beaming a wide grin as he downs another mouthful from his tankard.

[Karthas077]

Though Seradin had been intent on finishing his meal as quickly as possible, he soon realized that the cause for both the proprietor as well as the rest of the staff's unease was the men sitting at the table. At the dwarf's vile behavior, anger began to well up inside him. It was obvious that the women serving the men were doing everything in their power to keep them appeased. With each bite of the lamb that Seradin ate, his sense of frustration and anger at the injustice happening not twenty feet from him grew. Maybe it was because the men reminded very strongly of the bullies who had picked on him nearly every day, maybe it was the stress of leaving the place he had called home for so long, but it wasn't long before his restraint broke and Seradin stood abruptly, his chair making a fairly loud sound as it nearly fell to the floor. These men acted the way they did because no one would stand up to them... Well, maybe it was about time someone finally did.

"Sir dwarf, I know not if it's customary to treat the women where you come from in this manner, but in here you need to show them the respect they deserve."

His fists, clenched with the determination which filled him, he almost didn't notice the faint whisper of fear lingering in the back of his mind. What am I thinking? Why did I have to be the one to stand up to these brutes... These thoughts barely registered as Seradin stared straight into the unruly dwarf's eyes.

I suppose I might as well make this an intimidate check to force the dwarf to be 'friendly' to me for 1d6x10 minutes, so:
[roll0]

Also, sorry for saying things implying I was about to post and then not posting... I had to go grab some food and it took longer than I thought DX

[Sir Newton Fig]

The hum of conversation around the dining room gives way to silence after your display. The dwarf, still seated, stares at you with his head cocked to the side. "What did you just say to me, Sir runt?" he retorts, goadingly. His tablemates laugh in amusement. "If you're going to teach me some manners, you'll have to come over here and show them to me." At this point he kicks his own chair back and stands up, staring you in the eye fiercely. While you have about a foot and a half on him, he does look quite strong. The other humans at his table remain seated, watching this exchange with delight.

At this point, you notice that the hostess and the dining staff have gathered together in the doorway to the kitchen. They are watching on with worried faces; whether they're worried for your safety or worried about something else, you're unsure. But the fact they don't seem to be interrupting might indicate that they'd appreciate someone taking this dwarf to task. Even still, the faint, worried whisper in the back of your mind starts growing a little louder.

The dwarf was a little more successful with his intimidate check, but only by a bit. You're shaken (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/gamemastering/conditions#TOC-Shaken) for your next action.

[Karthas077]

Fear and apprehension bubble forth from the back of his mind, and the whispers which had until then been barely noticeable began occupying increasingly more of his thoughts.
Did you really think words alone would make a man who's lived his entire life relying on fear act according to reason? I couldn't just sit there... but what am I supposed to do now?

Remarkably, Seradin managed not to flinch at the dwarf's words, but it takes him a moment to find his voice. "If violence is the only language that will get through to you then so be it."

The remarkable calm which had suddenly settled over him came as a surprise. Though he would normally do everything in his power to avoid a confrontation, he had never actually run from a fight before... though that may have been because he had never had anywhere to run to... In either case, Seradin had no intention of backing down here.

Though still shaken by the group's intimidating demeanor, a strange sense of power and purpose began to take hold of him. The whispered voices of the inn's patrons faded into meaningless babble as Seradin moved the table he had been sitting at away from the confrontation, giving both him and the dwarf more open space to work with. The table moved surprisingly easily, but that was probably just a combination of adrenaline and a light wood.

Turning back to face the dwarf, Seradin settled into what he hoped was a fighting stance, his fists ready.

Bold is for the thoughts of the Eidolon. As of right now they're indistinguishable from his own thoughts (Seradin doesn't notice its use of personal pronouns like 'you')

So, Full-round action to 'summon' my Eidolon. (Moving the table was mostly just for flavor)
Up to you whether the beginning of this round counted as combat. If so, Seradin's words are in Celestial. In either case, by the end of my round, Seradin no longer understands common (or any other language).

As far as appearance, the Eidolon is basically... overlayed... on top of Seradin. To some it might look as if Seradin got bigger, to others they might see a larger figure standing where he is, but still see the boy.
(In other words, unless these people are trained in magic, they're most likely going to think it's their minds playing tricks on them.)
Also, he now has a (slightly glowing) symbol on his forehead:
http://www.freewebs.com/verimonth/snapshot20080414022658.jpg
Best symbolic representation of Vengeance I could find/think of, and I think it's fairly suiting.

[Sir Newton Fig]

As your words carry throughout the room, you find they are not your own. They were formed by your will, but they do not bear your voice; and the words themselves are unknown to you. You feel a foreign (yet somehow familiar) sensation take over your body, and suddenly you feel as if you are seeing the world through the eyes of another being. The sounds around you blend together into a dull hum, and the only voice you hear is the one speaking to you from within. You know immediately that this is the same thing that happened to you earlier when you fought those boys in town; yet this time you are more lucid, more in control.

Many of the dining room patrons stare flabbergasted, in part due to your sudden change in visage, and in part due to your incomprehensible challenge issued to the dwarf. Some of those sitting closer to the exit slink out through the door. The dwarf's friends stare on in shock; they don't seem eager to join in any time soon.

The dwarf himself appears to be undeterred, but perhaps a bit alarmed. In response to your display, he gives his chair a firm kick, splintering one of the legs off which he quickly retrieves and brandishes like a club.

"Try me, freak!" he howls, although his words are lost on you. You see his mouth forming the words, but the sounds are swallowed by the strange, muddled silence.

Initiative time!

Dwarf: [roll0]

Also, can you please make a Perception check? It's non-auditory, so use your regular modifier. Give me a Sense Motive with it too, in case the Perception scores high enough.

[Karthas077]

Seradin struggles to make sense of the dwarf's exclamation. For a second he thought it might be dwarvish, but he knows how to read dwarvish... Maybe it just sounds very different from how it looks?

Focusing once more on the task at hand, Seradin rushes the dwarf, aiming a powerful strike to his head, hoping to daze him.


Technically speaking I provoke an AOO from the dwarf for being unarmed, but I don't feel like doing lethal damage anyways.
Charge+Power Attack.
+1 to hit, +2 damage, -2 AC.
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
So, no crit, and keep in mind this is Non-lethal damage.

[Sir Newton Fig]

You land a powerful blow, striking downward at the dwarf's jaw and dislocating it. The hit sends him reeling, and he stumbles back over his broken chair, passing out. You hear a startled gasp come from the hotel staff, followed by surprised laughter. A few of the patrons around the room offer cheers of approval.

The dwarf's friends glance back and forth between their unconscious friend and you. They say something to you -- apologetically or pleadingly, you can't quite tell -- and then slowly back away and out the door.

The table-leg club drops from the dwarf's hand and rolls across the floor, arriving under a nearby table. As you follow it with your eyes, your gaze stops as it arrives at a pair of feet. They belong to a middle-aged gentleman who is seated at that nearby table. Most of the patrons in the room have been watching you with a sort of shocked amazement, but this man's gaze seems to suggest he is almost humbled by you. You don't realize at first, but the man appears to be speaking in a low voice as he watches you. You can hear the words -- they sound similar to the strange ones you spoke a moment ago. Their meaning is not known to you; but you sense that the force inside of you (whatever or whoever exactly it may be) understands them quite clearly, as you experience a momentary feeling of respect for this stranger.

Soon, you feel the force within you begin to recede, and your senses revert to normal. You are briefly disoriented, but not like last time. Your body and mind must be getting used to whatever it is that's been happening to you. As you catch your breath, the hostess rushes over to you, takes you by the arm and leads you back to your chair. As she leads you past, you take notice of the gentleman again: it almost seems to you like he's chanting some sort of prayer. He seems to have long since lost himself in a bottle of spirits: his eyes look hollow and mournful, and the smell permeating from his table is formidable. He must have come up for air when he noticed you speaking to the dwarf in that mysterious tongue.

The hostess sits down across from you. "My dear boy" she begins triumphantly, beaming a wide grin, "I have no idea what you just did or how you did it, but we've all been praying for someone to clean that troublesome bugger's clock all afternoon. I'd have tried kicking him out, but my hands are... ah, a bit tied." By this point, the other dining staff have gathered around the incapacitated dwarf and are now laughing merrily amongst themselves at his expense. "I'm going to have a bit of a mess to clean up with the mining company now, but far less than if I had kicked him to the curb myself. So thanks for sticking up for us. Your stay is on us," she flicks you the gold piece you paid her earlier, "and will be any time you drop by."

I hope you didn't mind me unsummoning for you there. Let me know if you want to change anything here, and I'll happily adjust.

[Karthas077]

Still reeling from whatever it was that just happened, it takes Seradin a moment to find his voice. Eventually, he manages a semblance of a response, "I hope the mining company doesn't give you any trouble for this. Thank you very much for your generosity."

Pocketing the coin, Seradin looks around the room, and tries to ignore the uncomfortable stares of some of the patrons. As his gaze falls once more upon the excessively drunk gentleman not far away, he musters his courage and approaches the man.

"Excuse me sir, but I didn't quite catch what you said back there... Was it directed at me...?"

[Sir Newton Fig]

The man looks at you quizzically. "Were you not just speaking the tongue of the heavens a moment ago?" he inquires."That was little more than a prayer."

He continues: "My boy, just a moment ago when you did whatever you just did -- that was the closest I've felt to my god in twenty five years." As he says this, he pulls a silver emblem out from beneath his shirt and shows it to you: the holy symbol of Ragathiel. "Do you recognize this symbol?" he asks.

I'm at a loss as to what his symbol should be, specifically. If you have any suggestions (like maybe your summoner's rune?), feel free to run with them.

[Karthas077]

Seradin is taken slightly aback by the mans words. "I... I'm not really sure what I said. That's just how it came out." As the man shows the symbol to him, Seradin wracks his memory for a few moments before he remembers reading something about an angel become god. Unfortunately, the name eludes him, but the symbol feels surprisingly familiar. "I'm sorry, I feel I should recognize it, and I know I've seen it in a book somewhere, but I can't recall what it means..."

[Sir Newton Fig]

"Hmm..." the man ponders, nodding to himself. "I'm guessing you also have no idea what just happened to you over there when you stood up to that dwarf."

Your heart begins to race. Does this man know what's happening to you? How?

"This is the holy symbol of Ragathiel, the justiciar of the heavens," he explains. He removes the chain from his neck and places the holy symbol on the table between you. He slides it over to your side and says, "I want you to have it. If you weren't religious before, I think you're about to be."

[Karthas077]

Seradin struggles to take in everything that has just transpired. As if of it's own volition, his hand stretches forward and picks up the symbol from the table. "I don't..." he pauses for a moment before continuing, "Thank you. I can only imagine what this means to you." As he moves to place the pendant into his belt pouch, Seradin thinks better of it and places it around his neck, before doing his best to give the man what he hopes to be a smile of gratitude. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'd like to retire to my room now. I have much to think about, and I am quite tired... But before I go, there is something I must ask you. Is there a place that you know of, perhaps somewhere that I can find a cleric or a priest of your god who might be able to answer my questions?"


Feel free to have the man either know something or not. Seradin is probably running out of the tonic which he has been taking to sleep without having 'nightmares'. XD

I think that would be a very interesting way for him to meet his Eidolon for the first time. When that happens is entirely up to you.

[Sir Newton Fig]

"This... this must be my chance," the man mutters to himself as he stares off blankly past you.

He shakes his head as his focus returns. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not making much sense tonight," he says, apologetically. "I've been lost in the bottle for too long, and my head is just swimming right now. But that ends tonight." He takes a deep breath, and exhales a slow, deep sigh of relief. The fumes on his breath nearly force you to gag.

"Listen -- I know where you can find the counsel you seek," he continues, "and I'm going to help you get there. Meet me in the stable after breakfast in the morning. If you don't see me when you get there, wait for me; I have a few things to take care of before we leave. I promise I will explain myself better then."

As he stands up to leave, you can see that the hollow look on his face has been replaced by one of determination. He turns to leave, then pauses and turns back. He extends his hand to you.

"Gilbert Cole, by the way."

(Meanwhile, you notice a few stablehands have arrived and are hoisting the dwarf out of the room. They'll likely be taking him to the doctor in town to re-set his jaw and make sure nothing else was broken in his tumble.)

[Karthas077]

Seradin shakes the man's hand as he replies, "Seradin Ilthus. Thank you for the offer, I was unsure of my destination upon the morrow, and look forward to seeing you then." With a short bow, Seradin departs for his room, hopeful for the revelations the morning might hold in store for him.

Goddamn subscription thread still said I was the last one to post in here. It's only because I've been paranoid for invisible posts (after having it happen to me in the past) that I noticed it >_<

[Sir Newton Fig]

Your tonic is nearly depleted now. Since you are unable to return to the apothecary in Whitbloom for more, you take a partial dose to ration what remains and hope for the best. Between the nagging anxiety of possibly having to remember your dreadful dreams and your mind racing through the hectic events of the past day, sleep does not come easily. Your mind races faster and faster, you toss and turn over and over, sweating and panting until suddenly...

...you are no longer in your bed at the inn. You open your eyes and find you are lying on a cot in a large canvas tent. You are alone in the tent, but you hear noises outside -- the sounds of battle raging all around you. It is dark outside, but you can see the glow of firelight through the door of your tent.

As you hop out of your cot, you discover you are clad from shoulder to feet in leather armor. A bastard sword hangs at your side. Here, right now, these things do not feel unfamiliar to you.

Through the door of the tent you see a tall, middle aged man illuminated by the dancing glow of the firelight. Battle rages all around him, but he stands stoic in the center watching it unfold. He is clad in plate armor, with a tabard displayed over his body. His back is turned to you, and you cannot see his face, nor the crest displayed on his chest.

You step outside the tent. There are other tents around yours, many of them lit ablaze. The warriors engaged in battle all look the same, and you can't tell one side from the other -- if there are any sides at all. The aged man standing before you speaks to you as you emerge from the tent, his back still turned: "Hello, Seradin."

You're lucid enough in this dream to decide your own actions. Feel free to add whatever flourish you like to this scene.

[Karthas077]

Aside from the obvious fact that he must still be asleep, the scene before him is unfamiliar. It doesn't occur to him that the man before him is anything more than a manifestation of the dream, so he is not especially surprised when he speaks his name.

The men fighting continue to do so, The occasional a cry of rage or pain complements the harsh sound of steel meeting steel. Though it appears to be complete chaos to Seradin's eyes, but the men involved in the conflict never seem confused about who is their friend and who is their foe.

Turning from his examination of his surroundings to look at the man before him, Seradin asks the first two questions that come to his mind. "Where am I? What's going on here...?"

[Sir Newton Fig]

The man turns his head, and you can now see most of his face. He looks like you, but about twenty five years older. You've seen him in your dreams before.

"It's a civil war," he says. "We were ambushed here; sold out by one of our own. Thousands of us were slaughtered. Many burned to death in their sleep before they even had a chance to defend themselves."

The bodies around you are beginning to pile up, and you smell blood and burning flesh everywhere. Some of the soldiers try to flee, but are pursued. As the battlefield around you begins to thin out, one of the soldiers remains.

The older man points his finger at the last soldier. "That coward was responsible for a great injustice here this day. He abused our trust and dishonored us all in exchange for a seat at the victor's table."

"Tell me, Seradin; what judgement would you issue to such a man?"

[Karthas077]

As the man speaks, his story kindles within Seradin's heart a great anger. So much senseless death. All because of one man's greed and cowardice.

Through the tides of emotion which threaten to sweep Seradin away, he manages to get out but a few sentences as he stared at the distant figure of the traitor. "He deserves no less than death, but it is not my place to mete out such justice. Only the gods have the authority to make rulings over life and death."

Seradin wholeheartedly believes that it is fundamentally wrong to take a man's life in anything other than self defense. He believes that only those who speak for the gods themselves have the power and the authority to condemn a man to die.

At the very least this is a regional thing, and the nation that Seradin lives in employs priests and clerics of the gods and goddesses (such as Iomedae) to act as 'judges' in serious legal matters. Things involving lesser crimes can be carried out according to the laws established by the government, and by government officials, but for anything big a cleric or a paladin is usually present to use a spell such as Zone of Truth before sentencing a man to death.

I think that should fit in quite well with magic being rarer in this universe, as true clerics who have the power to use a spell like that would be most likely to be found in major cities or the capitol, and there probably aren't very many at once.

Speaking of which, there's an AMAZING paladin prestige class called the "Inheritor's Crusader (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/classes/prestige-classes/other-paizo/i-m/inheritor-s-crusader)". I think it would be especially fitting if there were at least one of these in every /major/ city, and maybe three in the capitol?

Feel free to respond to this in the OOC thread, as this may be something we should discuss in more depth.

[Sir Newton Fig]

The old man smiles. "You are wise, then," he notes. "Wiser than I was. I let this man's betrayal consume me for years. I swore I would bring him the punishment he deserved. Your mother never forgave me for the brooding, obsessive man I became."

His last sentence resonates in your mind. This man you've been seeing in your dreams -- is he the father you never knew?

He now turns to face you fully, and walks toward you. You can now see the emblem displayed on the front of his tabard. It resembles a dragon, embroidered in red and gold but dirtied and faded. He puts his right hand on your left shoulder, and you feel shivers throughout your entire body.

"But you're different, and I think you're beginning to see that," he continues. "You've been touched by something bigger than all of us."

You now feel a hand on your right shoulder, coming from behind you, and you whirl around to see who is there. Suddenly you are blinded, as a radiance pierces through the darkness and floods you with light and warmth. As your eyes adjust, you see a tall, powerful angelic being standing before you.

You hear your father's voice from behind you. "As you say, only the gods have the authority to make rulings over life and death."

"And I am an agent of the gods," the angel speaks, its voice simultaneously calming and terrifying. You look down and notice the symbol the man gave you in the dining room earlier is hung around your neck. It is glowing vibrantly.

"And you, through I," he adds.

Suddenly, you hear your father's voice howl out in pain. You turn around once more to find the traitor standing behind him, his blade plunged through your father's back.

"My quest failed, Seradin," he utters, struggling to speak. Blood pours out of his mouth as he tries to breathe. "I turned my back on my family -- threw my very life away -- for nothing." He drops to his knees, and his assailant draws the blade from his back. "I will not beg for your forgiveness, as I do not deserve it. But I am tired, Seradin." He falls now upon his face, and tries to prop himself up on his hands to finish. "Finish him, that I may finally sleep. Please." He finally collapses on the ground before you.

You cannot make out the man's face in the shadows. The angel's radiance does not cast light upon him. You can make out only his eyes, burning into your soul. He prepares to lunge at you.

It's your choice how you want to proceed. If you want to fight back, roll initiative. For the moment, you do not have control over your eidolon.

[Karthas077]

Seradin draws the sword that hung at his side. Though the way it is strapped to him implies he should hold it in one hand, he almost drops it trying to do so, but quickly catches it with a second. Something feels off about the way he's holding it... almost like he should know how to use it properly, but it's just out of his reach. With the sword now drawn, he readies himself as best he can for the attack of the traitor. Everything he does, his stance, his grip, even his armor, feels uncomfortable, as if something was missing or wrong with it. Even still, Seradin is determined not to let that stand in his way. He grits his teeth and awaits the man's attack.

[roll0]
If my initiative is higher, my first action is a readied action to strike the man if he comes close.
I'll mentally adjust my AC to be appropriate for leather armor and use bastard sword stats.
(Unfused I have a +0 to hit, so here's some rolls for the readied action if I get to take it.
[roll1]
[roll2]

Keep in mind I am VERY weak not fused with my eidolon so I'll probably get my ass kicked. Thank god it's just a dream...? : o

[Sir Newton Fig]

The man lashes out. You try to follow his movements, but he is too fast. Despite your best efforts to prepare yourself, he gets past your guard. He runs his blade across your face, and blood begins to spill into one of your eyes. You wipe the blood away for a moment with your elbow and retaliate with a clumsy swing of your own, which sails just narrowly past your opponent.

Your opponent laughs at you. His laughter He steps back and begins circling around you menacingly, watching you bleed out like a wounded animal. The blood begins to rush into your eye again, making it difficult to see. You wipe it away again with your arm. If you don't do something about the bleeding, you aren't going to last much longer.

Your blade is not your only asset, the angel says. He is suddenly no longer present, but you can still hear his disembodied voice. Search within yourself, Seradin. You have great power waiting to be harnessed.

You take 7 damage from the initial slash, and another 1 point of bleed damage a round later (I'll just keep track of that until the dream is over). On his second turn, the traitor withdrew back 5 feet and used the rest of his movement to circle around you at a distance. Your turn.

[Karthas077]

Through the pain, Seradin struggles to concentrate. If only the blood would stop pouring into his eye. It burns and it makes it almost impossible to see. He thinks about the angels words, and reaches within himself. It feels like trying to grab liquid, and it just slides through his fingers. As he struggles to do anything with the power that he knows is just beyond his fingertips, he nearly gives up. What use is having this great power if he can't do anything with it? But as he stops struggling to grip the power and force it into action, he feels it almost flow towards his grasp.

Could that be it?
Could it be that simple?

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he stops trying to hard to make something happen, and relaxes, willing the power to flow into his body. Slowly at first, but then with a great rush, what feels like the light of a thousand suns floods through him. He can't see anymore, not because of the blood in his eyes, but because the world has becoming blindingly bright. The world glows like the angel from before, so bright it's almost impossible to look at, except this time it's coming from within him.

His vision returns, and the force of the power fades, but he can still feel it within himself, ready to do as he asks.


Cast Cure-Light wounds.
[roll0]
Bleed damage is healed.

(3/4 Oracle spells remaining.
2/2 summoner spells remaining)

Move action to circle around to keep himself opposite the traitor, increasing the distance between them as he does so.

[Sir Newton Fig]

Well done.

Your foe seems to be enraged at your display of survival. With a harsh growl, he charges at you again, this time more recklessly than the last. Filled with a new confidence, you nimbly sidestep his charge.

Thanks for the heads up on your post. It wasn't telling me you had posted either...

Your opponent charged and missed. Your turn.

[Karthas077]

Seradin sidesteps, dodging the reckless charge of his opponent. Despite his best effort, his first attack missed it's mark. Perhaps if he allows the same force which just lent him strength to guide his sword, his blade will strike true.

As he concentrates once more, he feels the energy within him flow outward, straightening his sword and lingering upon it's steel.

The man is too close to charge now, but Seradin prepares himself for yet another attack.

Five foot step away. Cast- "Divine Favor"
(The five foot step is going to be flavor for how I 'dodged' the charge)

[Sir Newton Fig]

Silent and unyielding, your attacker strikes again. As he approaches, he fakes another swing to your face, but stops his swing short and diverts a thrust to your leg. You intuit his deception and evade his swing.

5ft. step, failed improved feint check, missed attack. You're up.

[Karthas077]

Seradin deftly evades the strike aimed for his leg, before swinging his sword in a powerful arc towards his foe's arm.


[roll0]
[roll1]

Are you allowing for 'called shots' (once I get high enough Bab and stuff to actually MAKE them)? If so, I'll be sure to note when my attacks are actually aimed at a body part instead of just being flavorful.

Also, YAY high sense-motive modifier XD

[Sir Newton Fig]

Your blade sinks firmly into your foe's sword arm, and he howls in pain. Unyielding, he shifts his blade to the other hand and presses his attack. He fakes another trick swing, which you are able to follow with ease; but this time he manages to still clip you in the abdomen with the tip of his blade, finding a gap between the pads in your armor.

I hadn't noticed the variant rules for called shots before. I'll give them a read through.

Another failed feint attempt, but a successful hit this time. 4 damage, which should leave you with 4 HP remaining. Your turn.

[Karthas077]

The tip of the blade cuts painfully through both cloth and flesh as it slips between the leather pads of Seradin's armor. He clenches his teeth and focuses on the movements of the traitor, doing his best to ignore the cut, and delivers another slashing blow.


[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
(Trying to get a feel for how injured he is at the end of my attack)

[Sir Newton Fig]

Distracted by pain, your next swing sails wide of your opponent.

Though noticeably wounded, he does not appear to be in mortal danger yet. He darts to the side and begins to take a swing for your arm -- only to use the momentum of the swing to transfer his blade back to his wounded arm before delivering a thrust deep into your left flank. He finally caught you off-guard.

The pain is too much. Your sword drops from your hands, and you fall to your knees. Time seems to slow down as you watch your foe withdraw his blade from your side. He leans in and speaks into your ear, "I'll kill you, just like I killed your old man." His voice is guttural and terrifying. He plunges his blade once more into the center of your chest, and you scream in pain...

...as you fall out of your bed onto the hard wooden floor of your room at the inn.

Morning has arrived. Whether your relatively short dream actually saw you through the entire night or you simply took a long time getting to sleep in the first place, you are unsure. Your tonic doesn't seem to have done you any favors on this night, as you remember nearly every bit of your dream in vivid detail. The only part that remains fuzzy is that you cannot put a face to the man who killed you. Your head pounds as you recount the dream, and your chest throbs from the phantom wound that awakened you. You feel wide awake right now, but you're not sure if that terrible sleep will be enough to see you through the whole day.

As you regain your bearings, you can hear raised voices coming from downstairs:

"You left me to wake up on a stretcher, and you probably toasted that little freak as a hero! Get him down here right now!"

"Please, sir, I've been trying to tell you -- he fled after that scene unfolded. I have no idea where he is."

You recognize the voices as being those of the dwarf and the hostess. Then you hear another voice, but it is not raised like the others and you cannot make it out.

Then you hear the dwarf again: "No, he's here, I have no doubt in my mind. And if we find him here, we'll have you in manacles too for lying to us! Remember, the company owns this place now, so you're easily replaceable."

Finally, you hear the raised voice of the middle aged man you spoke to after the fight last night:

"Enough out of you, dwarf! Sir, I'll have you know your associate here was harassing the staff of this establishment all night before that boy stood up for their honor. I will see him leave in even worse condition than he did last night before I will see him harass these innocent people any further. You may own the deed to this establishment, but this woman is no slave. You will treat her with decency, or you will leave, now."

"You're obstructing justice! We'll have you hauled away too!"

"You wouldn't know justice if its cold blade kissed your own arse -- which could be arranged."

You hear the dwarf growl, and then you hear the other unidentified voice presumably talking him down. You hear the door slam, and there is no further yelling. You can hear the hostess and the older gentleman talking below, but you cannot hear what they are saying at this point.

You can have 150 experience from your dream.

[Karthas077]

Seradin takes a few moments to gather his belongings before he leaves his room. As he does so, he can't help but wonder if the mining company is going to continue to give the owner of the inn a hard time for the previous night. He sincerely hopes he didn't cause them too much trouble, but as he was planning on taking his leave this morning, he doubts things will get any worse than they already were. As he makes his way down the stairs, his body protests his attempt at energy, complaining due to the horrible night of sleep he got. As he walks, he remembers the dream, remembers what happened, and thinks back to the power he had found within himself. He takes a moment to stop at the top of the stairwell and concentrate, looking inwards. Just as he thought he felt something akin to the power he felt in his dream, a loud noise from below distracts him, urging his continued descent.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Seradin sees the man from last night talking with the owner of the inn. Hoping he won't be interrupting, Seradin makes his way over, adjusting the bag he's carrying over his shoulders as he does so.

Loud noise can just be: Someone dropped something random and it clattered.

Did the spells I used in my dream count against my spell limit for this day?

[Sir Newton Fig]

"Ah, Seradin," Gilbert says as he sees you come down the stairs. "Good, you're awake. And not a moment too soon. I'm afraid we may have to leave a little sooner than planned."

He looks to be much cleaner and more put together than when you previously met him. His long, messy hair has since been cleaned and tied back, and the hollow look is gone from his eyes.

The hostess, on the other hand, appears to be in even lower spirits than when you first met her. She appears to be fighting back tears, and is breathing heavily. You spot the fragments of a shattered vase scattered about the floor on the far side of the room.

Nope, your spells are at full capacity for the day, just like your hit points :smallwink:

[Karthas077]

Seradin looks from the broken vase to the hostess and back before responding,"As you wish master Cole, I heard part of the commotion from upstairs." He turns from Gilbert to the hostess and presses a single gold coin into her hand. "Please, take this. I appreciate your offer from last night, but I feel somewhat responsible for this whole affair with the mining company. I can't in good conscience take advantage of your hospitality if it means your establishment will suffer as a result. If I'm ever back in the area, I promise to do everything in my power to set things right. I would however appreciate it if I could get that breakfast to go, as it appears we are heading out soon."

Turning back to Gilbert, Seradin continues, "I already have all my things, so once I have some food I'll be ready to leave."

[Sir Newton Fig]

"Thank you, Seradin," the hostess says humbly, and accepts your coin. She drops the coin in with a few others in a jar behind her counter. "I'll fetch you both something for the road. Sit tight." She departs for the kitchen.

"Poor Syl," Gilbert laments to himself, watching the hostess hustle off to the kitchen.

"Try not to feel especially guilty about the turn of events, Seradin," Gilbert says to you after she's left the room. "Bigwigs from the mining company have been bullying Syl for years. You just happened to be the scapegoat for their latest attempt. Regardless, better for us to be on our way than have them finding out you're still here."

[Karthas077]

As Syl returns with a small meal for the pair of them, Seradin takes it gratefully and thanks her once again for her hospitality. Upon examining the small wrapped breakfast the hostess had given him, Seradin is pleased to find it contains a hunk of bread, some hard cheese, and a small quantity of smoked meat. The inn was obviously frequented enough by travelers for them to have a reasonable amount of non-perishable food available.

As he wraps up the food he had been given, Seradin addresses Gilbert once more, "Thank you for your kind words. I will do my best not to feel my responsibility for anything that happens too personally. I agree we should leave before any of them return, but I know not where we are headed. When you are ready to depart, I will follow."

[Sir Newton Fig]

Gilbert nods. "We're all set now," he says as he examines his bundle of provisions. "Take care, Syl," he calls out as he leads you out the door and toward the stables.

"I ran some early errands this morning, collected some supplies for the road," he notes as you approach the entrance to the stables. He flicks one of the stablehands a gold coin. "We're ready to go. Bring around our horses, if you would," he requests.

"Highcrest, the capitol city, is our destination," he explains. "It is about two days' journey on horseback. A day's ride will get us to Corsair, where we can rest before heading to Highcrest tomorrow morning."

[Karthas077]

Seradin recognizes the names of the cities they will be stopping in, and can't help but wonder if the capitol will be as illustrious as what he's read about it. As the horses are brought around, Seradin stares at his for a few moments before turning to watch Gilbert mount. That didn't look too difficult.

He approaches the horse, and does his best to imitate what Gilbert had just done, placing one foot in the stirrup and swinging his other over the saddle. Though it takes him a few minutes, Seradin eventually succeeds. After adjusting his position on the saddle to be slightly more comfortable, he slowly turns the horse so that he is prepared to follow Gilbert as they set off.

As the horses begin trotting away from the inn, Seradin asks,"What's in Highcrest?"

Pleased to learn that I don't need a ride check to stay in the saddle unless we're in combat XD

[Sir Newton Fig]

"Lots of things," Gilbert notes with a grimace, "but we're headed to the halls of judgement, a temple dedicated to the service of Ragathiel. The clerics there may have some answers for you."

"Oh, I have something else for you. Here." He brings his horse to a stop, and yours follows suit. He unfastens a sword and scabbard from his hip and hands it to you. You see he has another hanging on the other side. "Just in case we run into any trouble on the way. Corsair can be a bit rough after dark, so better to be prepared." As you accept the sword, you notice it is just like the one from your dream.

"Have you ever used a sword before?" he asks.

[Karthas077]

Seradin takes the sword, and almost misses the question that follows. Reliving the fight in his dreams, he's not sure how to answer. He's never actually held a sword before, but it seemed so real. It takes him a minute to realize that he never answered the question, and he shakes his head to clear his mind and does his best to formulate a response, "What? Uh.... No, sorry, not really." Having made somewhat of an ass of himself, Seradin busies himself with trying to buckle the sword onto his waist while riding, a task that he eventually accomplishes, albeit with much difficulty and little grace.

[Sir Newton Fig]

"I suppose I'll have to show you a thing or two about how to use one then," Gilbert adds with a chuckle.

Along the ride, Gilbert tells you a bit about himself. He was once a holy warrior of Ragathiel, many years ago. About twenty five years ago, he was charged by the priests at the halls of judgement with bringing a band of pirates to justice. With the help of a small group of warriors hired by the temple, Gilbert located the pirates' hideout along the coast to the south of Corsair. After witnessing them raping a captive woman, he lost his composure and ordered the entire band killed on sight. Two other innocents lost their lives in the confusion. For his recklessness, Gilbert lost the favor of the temple and of his god. He described the feeling in the aftermath of that battle as if "a part of his soul had been abruptly ripped from him." He spent the past two and a half decades in a deep depression, lost in the comforts of spirits. Since then and until this morning, he worked as a guard protecting barges carrying shipments from Whitbloom to Corsair.

"Last night, when you fought that dwarf, I could feel a small piece of my soul return to me. When I saw you take upon the form of an angel, it was as if Ragathiel himself was giving me a sign -- showing me the path to my salvation; a second chance to do right in His eyes. When you asked me for direction, I knew immediately that I was to help you find the answers you seek."

"Take upon the form of an angel"? Is that what happened to you yesterday? Could there be some connection to the angel in your dream, who spoke of you as being a servant of the gods through him?

If there's anything in particular you want to discuss with Gilbert, go ahead. Then just let me know whenever you're ready to fast-forward.

[Karthas077]

Seradin remains mostly silent throughout their journey, as he is lost in deep introspection. With everything that's happened to him, and everything that's changed, trying to figure out his place in life keeps distracting his thoughts.

During one particularly silent part of the trip he asks Gilbert to tell him more about Ragathiel, but other than that he's really not sure how to respond to the man. Despite his openness and the help he's offered, he really is a stranger. Even though he gets a feeling of trust and familiarity whenever he is around the man, it's still jarring to put the safety of his life into the hands of a man he met less than a day ago. However, as they travel, and Gilbert talks about himself, and his god, Seradin comes to understand why the man is helping him, and decides to trust his instincts.

Seradin only asks the one question, other than that ready to fast-forward.

As a side note, hearing Gilbert talk about his life was definitely key to winning Seradin's actual trust as opposed to just having feelings of trustworthiness because of his faith.

[Sir Newton Fig]

As you are almost at the mouth of the valley, the sky grows dark and overcast, and a strong wind begins to sweep up from the coast. A hard rain picks up soon after, and you are feeling damp and cold before long.

After another few hours, you can see Corsair in the distance. By this point, the sun is nearly laid to rest; compounded with the heavily clouded sky, it is quite dark out already. Based on what lights you can see flickering around its perimeter, you'd place Corsair at about twice the size of Whitbloom.

The road you are on soon ends at a crossroads near the edge of Lake Corsair; a day's journey to the north lies Highcrest, tomorrow's destination, while the south road crosses the river to Corsair's north gate. You eagerly await lodging for the night; after your dreadful sleep the night before and spending the past two hours damp and cold, little would please you more than a warm bed and some dry clothes.

"Ho there," the guards at the north gate call to you as you approach. "Travellers arriving after dark must stop and identify themselves."

[Karthas077]

At the guards words Seradin looks to Gilbert with uncertainty before responding.

"We are but travelers on our way to the great city of Highcrest. The night is cold and we would greatly appreciate the shelter of your city as well as a warm bed to sleep in for the evening."

I was going to roll a sense motive here but even if the guard is corrupt or something like that I don't think Seradin is suspicious enough of strangers for him to try to scrutinize them the second he meets them XP

[Sir Newton Fig]

"Good luck," one of the guards replies. "There's more than a few ships waylaid by the storm, and the crews have likely helped themselves to many of the available beds." He gives you directions to a handful of inns for you to check out.

"Thank you, sir," Gilbert says to the guard, and the two of you are free to move along.

It takes a little over an hour, but the two of you finally manage to track down a place to stay. The accommodations make Syl's inn at the Whitbloom crossroads look like a palace in contrast, but at least it's dry. The common room is filled with a number of seedy looking individuals, and Gilbert suggests the two of you just retire to your rooms -- which are separate, but adjacent.

[Karthas077]

Many of the men in the common room made Seradin feel exceedingly uncomfortable, and he gladly agrees with Gilbert, heading to his room immediately. Once inside, he collapses on his bed, asking himself what the hell he's doing here in Corsair. It seems however, that no matter what it is he desires, something has decided that his life was not meant to be lived in peace scribing tomes. With a deep sigh, Seradin brings the last of his tonic out of his bag and downs it, before closing his eyes and resigning himself to the impending darkness of oblivion.

Yay sleepytime.

[Sir Newton Fig]

Sleep comes quickly for a change tonight. Tonight, your dreams are -- for the most part -- less vivid than the night before. In one dream, you and Gilbert are imprisoned, and visited by some regal figure who throws you into gladiatorial pits to fight for your life. In another, you are leading an army into battle against a tyrant. In another dream, you envision a solitary dragon fighting an endless pack of lions.

You have one more dream that doesn't seem to fit the mould. In it, the traitor from your dream the night before is stalking you, and you are making your best effort to hide from him; but everywhere you go, he finds you. Your heart races as you turn corner after corner, trying to remain unseen; then suddenly you turn one last corner and stand face to face with him, his blade thrust deep into your stomach.

You wake up gasping for breath, your dream wound aching for a moment as if it were real. Just like the previous morning. But now it is not morning -- it is still pitch dark outside. You are unsure how long you've been sleeping, but you figure it is likely best to try to sleep at least a little longer.

But then you hear whispers out in the hallway.

Perception check, please

[Karthas077]

As Seradin was about to roll over to go back to sleep, he hears whispers coming from the hallway. As quietly as he can, he picks up the sword Gilbert gave him and creeps towards the door.

[roll0]
Also,
[roll1]

[Sir Newton Fig]

"Which one do you wanna try next?"

"Let's do this one."

"Alright."

You then hear a sound that, given the context, you can only assume to be the picking of a lock. It only takes a moment, and then you hear the snick of the lock release. It sounds like they have perhaps broken into the room across the hall.

"Wait, did you hear that?"

"Hear what? I didn't hear anything."

For a long pause, there is only silence. Then the two carry on: "Nevermind, it was probably nothing."

[Karthas077]

Seradin reaches to open the door when he realizes that the men on the other side may be armed. Doing his best to remain silent, he draws his sword, and unlocks the door to his room. He waits a few seconds and listens for the men.
As he's about to open the door, he realizes that he is completely unsure of what to do. If I make enough noise keeping them in the inn, the guards will eventually show up and arrest them...
Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Seradin prepares for the fight that he knows is about to happen. He almost doesn't even notice how calm he feels, but dismisses it as he concentrates on trying to picture where the two men across the hall will be located. His mind made up, and his body ready, Seradin eases the door to his room open until he catches sight of one of the men, before charging through, blade drawn.


I think at this point, Seradin fuses with his Eidolon the moment he decides to try to stop the thieves. (This is what is happening when he is centering himself before he opens the door)
Things that MIGHT be relevant:
[roll0](opening the door without being seen/heard)
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

If they don't notice me open the door, I'm HOPING to get a surprise round in, but I'm not sure if I can actually charge.
If there's no straight line available, subtract 2 from my to hit bonus.

EDIT: My damage modifiers are completely wrong because I'm a derp and didn't add 1.5 times str for two hands.
Should be 13 damage not 11 if it hits.

[Sir Newton Fig]

As you open the door, the burglar just inside the doorway across from yours turns on his heels as he hears you.

"Aw hell, you were right!" he exclaims.

Before he can react, you dash across the hallway and strike him down with a single solid slash across his chest. His partner, just a few steps ahead of him and having nowhere to retreat to, brandishes a blade and thrusts it at you. He misses wildly as he stumbles over his friend on the floor.

By this point, the previously sleeping guest in the room has awakened from the noise and had a chance to figure out that strangers are having an altercation in the entrance to his room. "What the hell are you doing in here?" he howls. "Get out!"

I'm a bit confused by your attack. Were you charging and power attacking? That would be at +6 to hit and +9 damage. If you were just charging, it would be +7 to hit and +6 to damage. The +6 you have listed for damage does accurately reflect the str*1.5 bonus from your 18 strength.

Modifiers aside, you had plenty of wiggle room to achieve the same result.

They heard you open the door, so no surprise round. However, you did beat them both in initiative, and you dispatched the first flat-footed burglar with ease. The second drew his blade as a move action, took a 5-foot step, attacked, and missed. Your turn.

[Karthas077]

Seradin's eyes flick to the man who had until a moment ago been sleeping soundly as he was burgled. Once again his words did not make sense. He heard the man speak, and recognized the words, but they didn't make sense when he tried to put meaning to them... But no time to dwell on that now. The first thief was down, and there was only one more left. Keeping his sword pointed towards the remaining man, Seradin speaks.
"Lay down your weapon. The guards will be here soon."

I forgot that power attack gave extra damage when using a two handed weapon.

:smallredface:

When I first rolled 1d10+6,
I was doing +4 from str and +2 from power attack, not +6 from the 1.5x STR mod.

That's why when I retroactively added the bonus from str, I ended up with +8 instead of +9.


Anyways, this turn I used a free action to speak (in celestial) and readied an action to attack if he does anything OTHER than drop his weapon/surrender.
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Sir Newton Fig]

The second burglar glares as you confusedly, then tries to slip past you. He makes a dive for the floor next to your legs, attempting to tumble past you, but you catch him with your blade on his way down and deliver a deep gash to his side. His nimbleness compromised by the wound you just gave him, he clumsily leaves himself open to another attack as he accidentally collides with your leg.

His acrobatics check to slip past you came up a little short, so you can make an attack of opportunity for him entering your square, if you wish.

[Karthas077]

As the second man tumbles awkwardly to the floor, Seradin shifts both his stance and the grip on his sword to deliver another blow to the man's body before he can get out of the way.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

Edit: O_O Looks like I accidentally beheaded him as he was still trying to stand up from his tumble to the floor...
Edit2: WAIT, I still need to CONFIRM that crit! He might not be dead yet XP (rolling in OOC thread)

[Sir Newton Fig]

Upon receiving your second blow, the second burglar collapses motionless upon the floor. Both are now bleeding badly, and will require immediate attention before they expire.

The man in the room has now leapt from his bed and stands on the other side of the room, shouting at you. His words are muddled and indecipherable. Soon, you see behind you that Gilbert and a few other patrons have risen from their rooms and started asking questions, but everything just blurs together. The cacophony of garbled voices swells louder, and you become momentarily disoriented -- then as your senses fade back in, you are able to hear everyone clearly again.

The man whose room you now stand is furiously trying to find out why two men were hacked down in his bedroom; a handful of others in neighboring rooms have begun asking similar questions of their own. Gilbert, by this point, has slipped past you and begun dressing the wounds of one of the two men.

"Help me patch up their wounds, Seradin, quickly" he requests sternly. He seems to be struggling to stop the bleeding.

[Karthas077]

Seradin stares numbly at the bleeding men while the incoherent words of the other inn patrons batter his senses. Gilbert's words snap him out of it, and he quickly drops to his knees beside the man who looks to be more badly wounded. Blood flows from a gash across his chest, as the unconscious man is very rapidly bleeding to death. Panic sets in for a moment. How was he supposed to stop the bleeding? Even if he could stop it, the man had lost a lot of blood. He was going to die. Seradin hadn't wanted to kill either of the men. The realization of how close to killing both of them he had come shocked him back to reality once more. Just as his mind was grasping at straws, the memory of last night's dream came flooding back to him all of a sudden. Suddenly more aware of his own body, Seradin felt a faint glow of energy, similar to what he felt in his dream, pulse within him. Stretching forth his hand, he laid in on top of the wound, and closed his eyes. He didn't need to heal the man completely, his body could do that on its own. He just needed the bleeding to stop...

Not entirely sure of what he was doing, Seradin relaxed, letting the energy within him flow into his hands. As the energy made contact with the open wound, the blood darkened as it congealed. Very little of the energy he felt within himself left, it appeared that just making contact with it's healing energy was sufficient to at least stabilize the dying man. After it was done, Seradin just stared for a moment, still amazed that he could actually do stuff like this in the real world, and not just in a dream. Remembering that there was a second dying man not two steps away, Seradin quickly clambered over to the side of the other man. As he took a deep breath to center himself, the energy, already flowing throughout his body, responded almost instantly, gliding along the surface of the other man's wounds. Though both men were still in critical condition, at least they could be transported now, and there was not much risk of them dying.

As the urgency of the situation passed, Seradin realized that he would still have to explain everything that happened here. That was not something he was looking forward to.

[Sir Newton Fig]

As you heal their bleeding, the ruckus all around you drops to dead silence. You hear a few gasps, which are soon followed by some hushed whispers. Gilbert, still kneeling next to you, gazes upon you with a simultaneous look of awe and satisfaction; everyone else outside the room peers in with anxious curiosity.

"Seradin, can you explain to me what just transpired here?" Gilbert whispers to you. "By the time I noticed the racket and sprung from my room, you had already felled both of these men."

200xp!

[Karthas077]

As Seradin does his best to ignore the people now standing out in the hallway, he whispers back, "When I awoke, I heard a noise from the hall. I caught these men after they had broken into this room. Do you think the city guard will be here soon?"

[Sir Newton Fig]

"I am sure someone has summoned them by now. Just explain to them what you just told me, and you should be quite alright."

Gilbert briefly examines the two burglars, and quickly locates a pouch on one of them containing a healthy sum of coin and several articles of jewellery and other precious trinkets.

"And I suspect when they canvas the other guests, they'll find the rightful homes for these, thereby supporting your story. Well done, Seradin."

The guards do soon arrive. After answering a few questions, the crowd disperses and the guests return to their rooms. The guards actually recognize the burglars, and little effort is required to convince them of your account of events. The guards seize the thieves' loot to be returned to its owners later, and inform you that you may visit the guardhouse tomorrow to collect a reward for their capture. Gilbert offers the man in the room across from yours his own room, that he may be free of his blood stained floor. He also offers to pay for the man's stay.

The rest of the night passes without incident, and even your dreams take mercy on you until morning. You awaken feeling more refreshed than most mornings.

[Karthas077]

When Seradin awakens once more the following morning, he spends a few minutes lying on his bed, getting his bearings. Though there were still moments when he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by how much his life had changed in so short a time, he realized that his life, up until two days ago, had not been very fulfilling. While he had had a safe place to sleep, and made a tolerable amount of money as an apprentice, it had never been the life he had wanted. He had never been given a choice. Yet, even though it appeared he did not have much choice over the new path his life was taking, something about it just felt right.

As he rose, he buckled on his new sword and went looking for Gilbert. If they were going to make it to the capitol at a reasonable hour, they would have to check in at the guardhouse for Seradin's reward fairly soon.

Sorry if this is rather bland. My brain is apparently not operating properly and I'm not feeling especially creative.

[Sir Newton Fig]

You meet gilbert in the foyer at the entrance.

"Looks like either the place has thinned out, or we've beaten the crowd for breakfast," he says, pointing toward the common room that had been packed the night before. "Shall we fetch ourselves a bite to eat before we find the guardhouse? The trip from here to Highcrest is a mite shorter than what we covered yesterday, so we should still be able to get there with daylight left if the weather holds." You notice the storm from the night before has moved on, and it is once again sunny and calm outside.

I understand entirely. Between work and school, my brain has been turning to hamburger lately. It took me most of the weekend to polish off what I finally posted in this thread last night, haha.

[Karthas077]

The mention of breakfast makes Seradin keenly aware of the gnawing hunger inside him. His stomach rumbles a bit as he responds, "I could certainly use a good meal right now. Hopefully the guardhouse won't be too hard to find once we're finished." After finding and seating himself at an empty table, Seradin awaits the aid of one of the waitresses. The smell of breakfast only makes him more acutely aware of how hungry he is, and by the time he's done eating, Seradin realizes he's eaten almost half again as much as he usually does for a given meal. Though mildly surprised, he puts it off as a result of eating slightly less than usual the day previous. When he has finally polished off the very last of the food, Seradin starts to get up when a thought occurs to him. Turning to Gilbert, he inquires, "Should we get some food for our trip today or do we have enough supplies left over to make the journey?"


Sorry this took so terribly long : /

I kept opening this window to type a response, and then kept forgetting, and then I had midterms and... >_>

[Sir Newton Fig]

Gilbert gulps down his last mouthful of tea before he replies. "I have some dried provisions packed away, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to have something fresher to eat while we're on the road today." He wipes his mouth with his napkin and stands up, tucking his chair in under the table. "I'll speak with the staff here and see if they can spare us some food. Why don't you ask around and see if you determine where we can find the guardhouse? I'll meet you outside in a few minutes."

Diplomacy check for gathering information. DC 10 should get you what you need from the average inn patron or worker. If you roll well enough (and you ought to with a +8 modifier), feel free to fill in as much as you like between here and the guardhouse.

[Karthas077]

After spending several minutes asking passing strangers and being rebuked, Seradin finally gets a response from a fruit vendor. The guardhouse was closer to the south side of the city, near the docks. The man explained that that's where the most trouble happened, and also made dragging rowdy sailors and smugglers to holding cells faster and easier. Though Seradin was sad to learn that a sizable detour would be needed on their way out of the city, he reminded himself that they allowed themselves a little extra time to be able to do this, and the money would be very nice in case they ran into any trouble or needed to cover some unexpected expenses. Seradin thanked the man, and headed back towards the front of the inn they'd stayed at the night previous.

Gilbert was already waiting out front, but luckily for not very long. Seradin quickly told him where they were headed, and before long they were on their way.

As they neared the guardhouse, Seradin began to catch glimpses of the horizon between buildings. It took him a few moments to realize what he was seeing, but it wasn't long before he figured out that that must be the sea. Even only catching glimpses of it, he was struck by the sheer size of it. Reading about large distances in a book, and seeing something like this were completely incomparable. For the rest of their short journey, he spent most of his time trying to catch glimpses of the water, and of the boats near the docks, through the streets and crowds. Distracted as he was, it wasn't long before Gilbert put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from walking into the back of the wagon and he realized that they had arrived.

[roll0]
Unless they were going to be mugged or something on their way to the guardhouse, I don't really have much else to describe so.... yeah XP

[Sir Newton Fig]

"We're here, lad," Gilbert points out. He opens the door and holds it for you to go in ahead of him.

The door to this stone building opens into an office. Two guards are seated on opposite sides of a desk with their feet kicked up. The nearer one, seated with his back to you appears to be smoking a pipe. The other looks you and Gilbert up and down curiously and asks, "Need something, fellas?"

[Karthas077]

Seradin glances from Gilbert to the guards and back again, considering his words before he responds. He wasn't sure how often rewards were given out for doing what in his mind was just his duty as a citizen, and he didn't want to come off as presumptuous, so he explained, "Ah... well, there was an... altercation at the Boatswain's Galley last night that I managed to resolve before the guards showed up, and I was told I should come here today?" As he finishes, he realizes that with how vague he was, the guards might not know what he's talking about unless they knew he was coming, but he couldn't remember getting the name of the guard who told him to come.

Yay finals are done.

Hope you don't mind me naming the random ass inn we stayed at XD

[Sir Newton Fig]

The man furrows his brow skeptically. "That was you?" he asks. "Uh, sorry. Right. Cap'n said you'd be by for this." He pulls a pouch from a drawer and tosses it to you from his seat. The handful of coins within the pouch jingle familiarly as it lands in your hands.

"Those two goons you took down made off with some rich dame's brooch earlier last night at the Anchor's Rest. Said she'd post reward for its safe return -- family heirloom or something." You deduce it must have been among the valuables Gilbert discovered in the burglars' possession.

"Lots more mess around here to clean up if you're looking for more work," he adds, gesturing toward a board on the wall behind you next to the door. "Only so many of us to go around."

Once you have the opportunity to count them, you find there are 30 gold coins in the pouch.

Hope the exams went well! My classes will be winding down in another two weeks, finally. Just in the midst of finishing off my last wave of assignments now.

[Karthas077]

Seradin glances towards the board as he considers what the guard says. Despite what happened the previous night, Seradin doesn't find the concept of mercenary type work too appealing. Besides, something tells him that whatever awaits him in Highcrest will bring with it enough changes to his life. With a mental shake of his head, he turns and addresses the guards, "I would be happy to offer my assistance in whatever way possible, but my stay in this city is but a brief one. Now if you'll excuse us, I believe we must be on our way if we are to make the next city by nightfall?" As he finishes speaking, his words turn, as does his head, to address Gilbert, preparing as he does so to depart.


I've gotten horribly out of the habit of responding to things in a timely fashion XO
I think I'll get back in the habit quickly though, and I'm really looking forward to wherever this is heading : )

[Sir Newton Fig]

Gilbert nods at your half-question, and holds the door for you as you both make your exit.

Without any further delays, the two of you make your way out of town and northward along the road to Highcrest. The scenery is more open than you're accustomed to, with fewer houses and farms along the way than you'd find in the valley. The landscape consists mostly of rocky outcrops and gentle hills, dotted with low-growing shrubs and wildflowers. The wind coming up from the sea to the west is crisp and refreshing.

You make fairly good time on your travels, with few distractions -- until about mid-afternoon. You encounter a wagon that has veered off the road and collapsed on its side in a ditch, its wheel broken and its cargo -- which appears to consist of countless burlap sacks -- strewn all over the place. Two men appear to be hoisting the wagon up onto a crate, perhaps to prop it up while they attempt a repair. Another man is rummaging through the spilled cargo, rounding it up and bringing it back to the wagon. A fourth man watches you cautiously as you approach.

[Karthas077]

Seradin takes advantage of the peaceful travel to relax, and come to terms with the new direction his life has taken. With things apparently much calmer than they had been the previous two days, it feels very nice to clear his mind and just... be.

...

At the sight of the overturned wagon, Seradin slows his horse as he nears the man watching them. As he approaches, he calls out to them, "Are you all alright? Are any of you hurt?"


Perception on the burlap sacks/men to see if they are armed, or if there's anything out of the ordinary I can see about the sacks. Also, checking to see if the animals are there and calm, or if they have bolted/are uneasy.
[roll0]
Sense motive on the men (either to get a hunch about something being wrong, or if they respond to what I ask)
[roll=sense motive]1d20+8

[Sir Newton Fig]

Some of the sacks have torn and spilled onto the ground. They appear to be filled with foodstuffs; exactly what, you aren't able to tell. You notice the man at the roadside watching you has what appears to be some form of blade sheathed at his hip, and a bow over his shoulder. The horses drawing the wagon appear to be uneasy, but not panicked.

"Just a broken axle. We'll be alright," the armed man notes, dismissively.

A little too dismissively, perhaps. You sense an impatience from these men, as if in a hurry; yet they won't ask for help?

[Karthas077]

Just as Seradin was about to leave the men alone, he realized something just felt... wrong... about the situation before him. He examined his surroundings again for a moment, trying to place the source of the feeling, but it just remained in the back of his mind, an itching feeling of doubt. He tried to dispel it, reassuring himself that nothing looked out of the ordinary, but the feeling only grew stronger. Something about it felt familiar too... Like whatever it was that was causing him to feel suspicious about these men was also what told him he could trust Gilbert... Well, so far the feelings, whatever their source, had yet to steer him wrong. But as they were relatively new in his life, that didn't amount for much. Still, better to be safe than sorry.

Careful not to make any obviously hostile movements, as he still wasn't sure what was going on, Seradin nonetheless readied himself for the unexpected as best he could.

"Please allow us to assist you. It's dangerous to be here on the road by yourselves."


Yay for Oracular Intuition. I get to roleplay all my surprising insights into the inner machinations of other people's minds as the whisperings of my eidolon in the back of my head.

I love this character so much.

That said, I discovered that I never actually added traits to my character sheet... I know I talked with you about the Profession Scribe and Craft(Calligraphy) thing, and I have the 3 point mod from that, but I can't remember if that took up both trait slots or what it was called XO

[Sir Newton Fig]

The man looks back hesitantly toward his other comrades, then back to you.

"Unless you can wave your hands and magically mend our broken axle, I can't see you being much help," he says, sarcastically.

Just as the man finishes speaking, the man who was previously rounding up the cargo stops what he's doing and hurries over.

"I think what my associate here means to say," he begins, "is that unless you're a travelling carpenter, we'd dearly hate to waste your time by having you fussing over us." He shoots the other man a sharp glare before continuing. "We've already sent a runner to Highcrest for some assistance. We should be back on the move again before dark."

As I recall it, I let you take Skill Focus for your scribing in place of your pair of traits, as well as letting you use your Profession skill to substitute for similar Craft checks (or vice versa, whichever it was).

Also, can I get another Perception and Sense Motive check, please?

[Karthas077]

DAMN! When he first mentioned the broken axle I was like "Hmmm I wonder if I took 'mend' as a cantrip from my summoner side..." to which I initially responded with "Oh, what a shame", but now he's just RUBBING IT IN MY FACE XD

I would SO love to just be like "Well ACTUALLY..." and wiggle my fingers to have the wheel fix itself.
(Though that would be totally out of character, because Seradin is still very new to the fact that he can do magic-related things.)

Seradin turns to the newcomer, and looks him up and down. The man appears much more articulate than his friend, which makes sense considering the rather rude man was carrying a sword and had been designated to standing guard.
However, the faint whispering of wrongness still remained in the back of his mind, and he took his time to look the newcomer over before responding.


[roll0]
[roll1]

Edit: Ouch at both of those rolls.

[Sir Newton Fig]

The second man is clearly much more personable than the first. He seems honest, but it is difficult to ignore his associate's shiftiness.

Gilbert rides up alongside you and leans toward you to whisper, "I don't like the look of this. Any traders in their situation would normally be begging any friendly, armed folks with the decency to stop and chat to help protect them against brigands. Typically for a small reward, at that."

You notice that the second man has a weapon sheathed at his hip as well.

"Is something wrong, gentlemen?" the man asks after seeing Gilbert whispering to you.

[Karthas077]

Seradin glances nervously towards Gilbert. It makes sense for the older man to know more about this sort of thing than him. Plus, the nearer man on the road is still making Seradin feel uneasy. Now almost certain that this could turn violent at any moment, Seradin takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself.

His attempt at bringing peace to his currently anxious mind fails spectacularly.

Just as he's about to panic, he suddenly becomes acutely aware of the heavy sword on his back. A sense of reassurance, confidence, and authority abruptly flows into him. His back straightens in the saddle, and he nearly looms over the two men on the ground. Determination fills his gaze as his worries are pushed away, replaced only with a sense of duty.

Looking both men intently in the eyes, Seradin speaks, his voice the same, but at the same time different than it had been a moment before. Almost deeper, more authoritative.

"I might ask you gentlemen the same question. Is there something you aren't telling us?"


If possible I'd like to ready an action to merge with my eidolon if either of them becomes hostile.

[Sir Newton Fig]

Now visibly perturbed, the man replies sharply,"Our business is our own, and you'd do well to keep out of it."

"Couldn't you have just moved along the first time you were asked? Nosey do-gooders..." he mutters under his breath.

Just then, you spot something out of the corner of your vision: one of the two men who were previously behind the wagon fussing with the broken axle has begun creeping out around to flank you! Fortunately, you notice him before he gets the jump on you. You notice he has a shortbow drawn with an arrow nocked -- his intent seems clear to you.

Gilbert, having not noticed the man's advance, dismounts and urges his mount on ahead with a slap on its rear. He approaches the apparent "leader" of the bunch, his hand on the handle of his sword. "I know this cart and cargo is not your own! What have you done with the ones rightfully responsible for it?" he demands.

Reacting to your stealthy assailant's advance, you drop from your saddle. As adrenaline begins to rush through your body at the prospect of battle, you can feel the familiar otherworldly power beginning to fill you.

Your assailant, seeing that you've noticed him, halts his approach and fires his weapon. His arrow soars wide of you. Another arrow flies from over closer to the wagon, catching you by surprise and now drawing to your attention the remaining one of the four you hadn't noticed a moment ago. It strikes you in the thigh, and the pain shoots through your whole leg.

"Looks like the jig's up," the leader announces. He and the guard each draw their blades and step forward to flank Gilbert, who also draws his blade in turn. They each take a swing at Gilbert, but he deftly evades them both.

After hearing you yell as the arrow burrows into your leg, Gilbert finally notices the other half of the battle happening. He steps around the guard and away from the leader, so as to not leave you alone to handle the majority of the fight on your own. He takes a mighty swing, leaving a deep slash in the guard's side as his blade penetrates his studded leather.

Alarmed by the battle raging on around them, your horses take to flight toward the northwest. The horses tacked to the wagon begin to panic as well, and struggle to flee. However, once the wagon slides off the crate the men had raised the rear corner upon, it collapses onto the ground and gets stuck on some rocks again, halting the horses' flight.

You're up. You have a move action to spend after you finish fusing with your eidolon. Here's the layout:

http://i.imgur.com/8BTXn.png?1

Your token is the short-haired blond with the pointy ears, Gilbert is the dark-skinned bald man, the guard is the dwarf, the leader is the spiky-haired one to the north, and the other two toward the south are the sneaky ones.

And the spaceships are horses... :smallwink:

[Karthas077]

He knows Gilbert is surely speaking common to the other men, but once again the words which reach his ears seem muddled and confused; their meaning somehow lost before he can grasp it.

As pain shoots through his leg, Seradin lets out a cry of both pain and anger as a surge of energy fills his body. The glowing sigil of Ragathiel burns upon his forehead, and Seradin straightens his body, now standing a full half foot taller than he had a moment ago. As he draws his sword with one hand, Seradin snaps off the shaft of the arrow sticking out of his leg with the other. His expression grim, he advances on the man who shot him.

For mechanics purposes Seradin is wielding the sword with both hands. Whichever man is the one that shot him is the one he walks up to. He does so in a straight line and stops just before him with no remaining actions.

Mini-Stats:

Seradin 7/9 HP
Oracle(1st): 4/4
Summoner(1st): 2/2
Kethrazel 11/11 HP

[Sir Newton Fig]

As you present your back to the guard on your way to intercept your attacker, he takes advantage of the opportunity to attack your guard is down. His swing connects, and you feel the celestial force with which your are bound convey to you a feeling of great pain.

You approach the attacker who previously shot at you. Seeing you brush off the guard's hefty slash as you just did provides him with a bit of unease; but after remembering that they have you outnumbered 2:1, he regains his composure. Clutching his bow in one hand, he draws a dagger in the other, then lunges at you. A moment later, the other attacker follows suit, attacking you from behind. Both men plant their daggers firmly into your form, and you can feel the divine power inside of you beginning to slip away.

6 damage form the AoO, 4 from the first dagger and 3 from the second for 13 total. If you wish to spend some of your own hit points to prevent this damage from exceeding your eidolon's temporary HP, you may do so.

Next, the guard steps back in Gilbert's way to cut him off from reaching you, and proceeds to swing at him with his longsword. He misses wildly, but sets up an adequate distraction for his leader to creep up behind. Just as Gilbert is about to deliver a felling blow to the guard, the leader of the gang plants his rapier firmly into Gilbert's back, causing his swing to narrowly miss its mark. Gilbert howls in pain; you can tell that he will not withstand another blow like that one. Gilbert hobbles away from his attacker, slowly working his way back around the guard again.

"Drop your weapons if you want to live," the leader offers. "We can no doubt find a use for you." His exact words are lost upon you, but the circumstances of their delivery give you the impression that he is either goading you or calling for your surrender.

http://i.imgur.com/9zZAQ.png?1

[Karthas077]

As the daggers sink into his body, pain reverberates from the presence around him, and blood blossoms from his tunic, mirroring one of the knife wounds which normally wouldn't have reached him. The energy around him pulsates in pain. Seradin berates himself for his foolishness, and for overestimating himself and whatever force it was that was aiding him. An image flashes before his eyes, an image of himself in luminescent gold armor. Holding his bastard sword before him, Seradin steps towards the back of the wagon, and focuses. Concentrating on the image in his mind, the armor fades into being around his body. Though a far cry from the resplendent armor which had adorned him in the image he had seen for but a moment, it was better than nothing.

Grim determination fills him, as he puts any hope of getting out of this alive into one last devastating blow at one of the men surrounding him.


took 3 points of damage to leave Eidolon at 1 hp, and even though this might be a bad idea, I'm kindof in a really bad situation so spending last hero point to get another standard, which is spent power attacking one of the men with daggers.

[roll0]
[roll1]


The five foot step was straight back towards the cart from his current position.

Mini-Stats:

Seradin 4/9 HP
Oracle(1st): 4/4
Summoner(1st): 1/2
Kethrazel 1/11 HP

Current effects:
Mage Armor (+4AC)

[Sir Newton Fig]

Your blow sends its target sailing to the ground, and he makes no movement after he lands. Your other attacker hesitates to attack again after seeing your demonstration of prowess. As he circles around to cut off Gilbert's path once again, the guard hollers: "Hit him again, you idiot!"

Following this command, your attacker lashes out again, clipping you in the shoulder. Again, you feel the power within you starting to slip out of your grasp, and your sword grows heavy.

The guard takes a mighty swing at Gilbert, landing a blow squarely across his chest and sending him plummeting to the ground. Before falling unconscious, he mutters to you in Celestial: "Save yourself, Seradin."

Finally, the leader of the group circles around his comrades and approaches you. As he does so, he speaks to you, but again you cannot make out the words.

http://i.imgur.com/u4enu.png?1

[Karthas077]

Seeing the three remaining members of the gang approaching, and knowing Gilbert is lying on the ground dying or possibly dead, Seradin almost makes a run for it. Then he remembers that they still have bows, and he doesn't have a horse. His eyes dart back and forth, searching for some place he can go where they won't be able to surround him.

The broken and tilted back of the wagon behind him startles him for a moment as he begins to back away from the three highwaymen. Then he realizes that on the wagon, he's probably as safe as he can possibly be. Even if they can reach him from over the sides, it'll be a lot harder than if they had him surrounded.

As he does his best to leap up upon the cart, he realizes that the only reason he's still standing is the tiny bit of extra energy still remaining in him.
Thinking back to both his dream and the fight at the bar, he tries to pass energy into the being which is supporting him... For but a second, nothing happens, until he realizes that what he's basically doing is trying to put energy into the source that he draws it from. After a moment of anxiety, passes, he notices the energy suffusing him growing in strength. It appears as if the brief respite from battle was all it needed to heal itself, yet at the same time, he can tell that it will not be able to replicate that feat again... at least not until he has rested. Feeling better, but still wary of the men at the foot of the wagon, Seradin prepares himself for the worst.



Five foot step onto the bottom right section of the cart.
Standard to cast Lesser Rejuvenate Eidolon.
No summoner spells remaining.

[roll0]

Mini-Stats:

Seradin 0/9 HP
Oracle(1st): 4/4
Summoner(1st): 0/2
Kethrazel 5/11 HP

Current effects:
Mage Armor (+4AC) 1 round/1 hour

I don't know WHAT to rule here because while I do have 0 hp and should therefore be disabled and only capable of performing one standard action (ie - casting rejuvenate eidolon), I have 1 temporary hp from my fusion...

Edit: Could have rolled better... : / Maybe one of them will provoke an AOO trying to get behind me and I'll get to slice him in half.

[Sir Newton Fig]

The guard motions to the empty space on the cart next to you, ordering your former attacker to get up there with you. He nods obediently, and moves over to hop up while the guard circles around to the other side. You spot an opportunity to catch one of them off-guard in their shuffle; but you had best take it quickly, or they will have you surrounded again.

Here's the positioning they're trying for; you can choose to make an attack of opportunity against whichever of the two you prefer before I proceed with any rolls.

http://i.imgur.com/XLjUc.png

[Karthas077]

Having already sized up his opponents several times, Seradin instantly turns and swings his blade down and towards the face of the guard below him.

The man, having already been weakened by Gilbert's earlier attack, is sent reeling as the blade bites deep. His opportunity taken, Seradin quickly attempts to turn his attention to the man behind him, trying to give him no openings to take advantage of.


[roll0]
[roll1]

So I know I'm being a bit presumptuous here, but Gilbert already hit the man for 13 damage, and I'm fairly certain his AC hasn't gone up since then, leaving me to conclude that my strike also hits. I also think it's unlikely that you threw me up against a guard with more than 26 hp (considering there were 3 other people) I don't know how much Con he has though so he might be dead he might be unconscious. Either way Seradin turns around before he can find out.

[Sir Newton Fig]

As you strike the guard to the ground, the leader loudly hollers a short string of what you assume to be profanities before taking to flight to the northwest. Your remaining attacker, now finding himself alone and having seen the hurt you are capable of dealing, backs frightfully toward the front of the cart. As he does so, he slips and falls upon his rear. He raises his hands up in front of him, snivelling and presumably begging for mercy. The words are a blur, but his resignation is crystal clear.

Your assumptions were quite accurate; 1st level fighter with +2 con mod and toughness meant he had but a few hit points left before you put him under.

[Karthas077]

Seradin leaps from the wagon, pointing his sword at the remaining man as he quickly rushes to Gilbert's fallen body. Fear and panic grip him as he drops to his knees over him, checking for any signs of life.

Unbidden, words begin to pour from his mouth as he kneels before his companion.
"Nawayrielh, hely cuy zuon baiyrboh lelnjacy tiel uc yril taz, rajicw moly pelelc nelafaxelcelt yu zuon qnellelcvel."


Translation: "Ragathiel, let not your faithful servant die on this day, having just been reawakened to your presence."

If Gilbert is not yet dead, do I have time to cast cure light wounds on him and myself, and then use one of the horses tied the wagon to catch up to the fleeing leader?

[Sir Newton Fig]

Sadly, Gilbert had already expired before you got to him.

There is a gentle hill ahead which the leader of the group has just passed the crest of. If he continues away on foot, however, there should be plenty of time to catch him by horse. The horses are still a bit spooked, though, so it may require a bit of effort to convince one of them to obey you.

[Karthas077]

Forcing the emotions which threaten to overtake him down, Seradin staggers to his feet, and glances from the fleeing man to the horses tied to the wagon, to the last highwayman lying on his back nearby.

As Seradin approaches, the man begins to sit upright, only to have the pommel of a sword come down atop his head. Satisfied that the man is unconscious, the weary scribe approaches the still skittish horse, trying to calm it as he grabs hold of the reigns and cuts it free from the wagon.


[roll0]
+4 for opponent being prone
-4 for doing nonlethal damage with a lethal weapon.
[roll1]

[roll2]

Damn, it actually doesn't look like my attempt to knock out that guy worked... Unless he was flatfooted against my attack because he was surrendering...? XP (I can dream can't I?)

[Sir Newton Fig]

The horses jitter as you approach, but don't fly into a panic. As you bring your hand up to pat one's mane, it withdraws its head at first, but then allows you to pet it. It does not flee as you untether it, but it does back away nervously as you attempt to mount it. Your best guess is that this horse has been trained for labour and not for riding.

I'll let the knockout fly. Seems more cinematic to just let you knock him out than to make you roll it over again. He certainly doesn't have the courage left to actually attack you back anymore, so we'd just be killing time with the back-and-forth anyway.

[Karthas077]

Seradin attempts to calm the horse further, and mount the horse slowly. Even if unused to most normal riding commands, the horse should still understand the his use of the reigns, having been guided by then while driving the wagon.


[roll0]
As far as I'm aware, the horse being trained for labor just means it doesn't know riding commands like come/heel/stay, so can I still actually RIDE it without having to 'push' it?

If the horse lets me ride it, I'm going to spend the first round on it double moving (not quad moving) so as to be able to cast Cure light wounds upon myself and only make a DC 11 concentration check:
[roll1]
After which point I will speed up to a gallop [5x speed because horses have the run feat...?] making my movement after 2 rounds 100+200 feet, at which point I should be almost caught up to the escaping highwayman unless he tries to hide.
In which case:
[roll2]


Also: Thank you for allowing me to cinematically knock the remaining bandit unconscious XD

Also Also: I decided to peruse your Souls for Smugglers Shiv game, and I have to say, your DM is really good, as are most of your party members. If you have access to the book, refrain from looking at it because that campaign is VERY exciting if you don't know what's coming.

Edit: ACK nat 1 on perception. Hope he's running not hiding XO

[Sir Newton Fig]

After further coaxing, the horse allows you straddle it. It is slow and unsure at first, but soon settles down and concedes command to you.

As you reach the crest of the hill, you see yours and Gilbert's horses down in a gully below some two hundred feet or more ahead. The escaped brigand is repeatedly trying to approach one of them to use it for his escape; but they both remain too frightened to let him near, and instead run circles about him. He sees you come over the top of the hill and grows frantic, rummaging through his bag to find something to fend you off with. As you continue to approach, he finally pulls out a crooked, slender stick and shakes it furiously in front of him in your general direction. Whatever he intends to accomplish with this act -- if anything -- you haven't a clue.

Right you are again -- riding itself doesn't appear to be a "trick", so I can only assume that suitable mounts can just be coaxed to let you ride them. A 19 is more than adequate to settle the spooked horse, as far as I'm concerned.

Don't forget to roll for your Cure Light Wounds healing!

EDIT: thanks for the heads up! I'm looking forward to seeing where the game goes.

[Karthas077]

Seradin slows the horse to a canter as the man begins to dig through his belongings. When he pulls out a small stick rather than a crossbow or sling like he had expected, the confusion is plain on his face. Abruptly, a tingling sensation begins to emanate from behind his eyes, and a feeling of warning comes from the otherworldly presence surrounding him. For a moment, the universe appears to invert itself, and Seradin almost loses his balance. Just as suddenly as it had begun, everything has returned once more to normal. The horse slows to a trot as they approach the stick brandishing man, and Seradin leaps down from it's back, blade in hand.


[roll0]

Casting Detect Magic (DC 10) : (I'd like to flavor this as my eidolon activating this ability, so as to justify it's use when my character should have no suspicion that the stick that guy has is a wand. If you'd rather the Eidolon not be able to, the feeling of warning will make Seradin cautious but Detect magic will remain inactive. Either scenario is fine with me :smallwink:)
[roll1]

Mini-Stats:

Seradin 5/9 HP
Oracle(1st): 4/4
Summoner(1st): 0/2
Kethrazel 5/11 HP

Current effects (time elapsed/max duration):
Mage Armor: +4AC (6+ rounds/1 hour)
?Detect Magic: Detect presence of magical auras (1 round/1 minute)


Edit:
In fact, if I weren't concerned it was like a CL 3 wand of magic missile that would be more than capable of doing 10 damage to me, I would RATHER Seradin find out the hard way that it's a wand. In which case the Eidolon will activate detect magic after the highwayman is incapacitated and Seradin is examining the wand wondering what it is.

[Sir Newton Fig]

As you draw near, you get an unusual feeling about the man standing in front of you. Perplexed, you strain yourself to understand this feeling while you make your approach: something about the stick the man is holding is giving you a faint, almost nauseous feeling.

As you get close and dismount, he begins shaking the stick wildly and spouting gibberish. Nothing seems to happen, so he begins to back away from you, cursing and brandishing his stick all the while.

Your spin on having the eidolon "warning" you is fine. The best I can tell you per the Detect Magic rules is that it registers a faint aura, placing it at CL 5 or lower. OOC, I'll let you know that after the obscene pummelling I just handed you and Gilbert, I wouldn't be so terrible as to give him an ace in the hole potent enough to mop the floor with you again.

Let's say you dismounted at a distance of 15 feet? He failed his UMD check as his standard action, and then used a move action to move 30 additional feet away, putting him 45 feet distant. The terrain here is spotted with rocks, but not so densely as to prevent a charge, if desired.

[Karthas077]

Seradin, though wary of the strange actions of the highwayman, and of the strange feeling in his gut, grips his sword tight and charges forward. Once more face to face with the slippery bastard, his blade slashing towards the man's chest in a vicious downward arc. As steel meets flesh, blood splashes from the cut extending from the man's shoulder to nearly his abdomen. Though not a mortal wound, Seradin suspects he will not be on his feet much longer

I would have dismounted at 30 feet but after the charge that won't have mattered xp

Charging and power attacking:
+1 to hit, +3 damage, -2 AC
[roll0]
[roll1]

Mini stats:

Seradin 5/9 HP
Oracle(1st): 4/4
Summoner(1st): 0/2
Kethrazel 5/11 HP

Current effects (time elapsed/max duration):
Mage Armor: +4AC (7+ rounds/1 hour)
Charge: -2AC (1 round/1 round)
?Detect Magic: Detect presence of magical auras (2 round/1 minute)

[Sir Newton Fig]

Your suspicions correct, the man stumbles back from the blow, eventually falling to the ground. He mutters one final string of obscenities before finally collapsing, unconscious.

That'll be another 600XP for your troubles.

[Karthas077]

After the man falls to the ground, Seradin picks him up, and throws him over the back of the horse he had taken from the wagon, taking his belongings as he does so. He wipes his sword on the man's tunic, cleaning as much of the blood off of it as he can, before sheathing it and trying to coax his and Gilbert's horses over. Though it takes a minute, he mounts his former steed and, with the leads of the other two horses tied together, makes his way back to the wagon and the other bodies.

When he gets there, he slides off his horse, tying the leads to the side of the wagon. As the adrenaline slowly fades, Seradin begins to feel weary. His eyes slide, almost unseeing, over the still forms of the other highwaymen, before coming to rest on the unmoving body of his companion. Companion... It seems almost harsh to think of the man who had been so nice to him in that manner, but what other words could he use to describe him? They hadn't had much of a chance to get to know each other, so they weren't really friends...

The magnitude of the events of the last few minutes finally struck him full force. His trembling form staggered towards Gilbert's body before his knees abruptly gave out. Barely managing to catch himself with his hands, Seradin's face was mere inches from the old man's. A sea of emotions threatened to overwhelm his senses. Fear, anxiety, despair, grief, loneliness, panic... but just when everything seemed hopeless, the energy still surrounding him urged his body up. Stumbling to his feet, Seradin let go, giving over to the impulses of the force. The completely alien sensation of feeling and watching his body act without direction from him was lost amidst the turmoil of his mind.

His sword was drawn anew and planted firmly into the ground, and from his pocket came the pendant Gilbert had given him. Chain clutched in one hand, his body kneeling before the sword which now loomed over him words poured fourth from his lips,
"Rajel selnvz oquc yril huly luoh, fru ic ril haly ruonl, buowry awaicly eljih ic zuon casel. Wnacy yril rosphel lelnjacy qelavel act nelbowel ay yrel buuy ub yrel suocyaic ub Relajelc. Pz zuon binel anel fel vhelaclelt, act pz zuon lfunt fel anel lynelcwyrelcelt. Ic zuon casel lrahh jelcwelacvel pel tucel."

Even though the words pouring forth from his mouth were completely foreign to him, he understood every last one. Something about the strength and compassion with which they were spoken moved him, and lessened the pain he felt inside. As he stood once more, and gathered his and gilbert's belongings, he set about preparing for the remainder of his journey to Highcrest.

If he's in danger of actually DYING, I'll cast stabilize, but otherwise XP

Translation for the last rites spoken:
"Have mercy upon this lost soul, who in his last hours, fought against evil in your name. Grant this humble servant peace and refuge at the foot of the mountain of Heaven. By your fire are we cleansed, and by your sword we are strengthened. In your name shall vengeance be done."

Actual actions taken: All living members of the band of highwaymen are tied up with whatever is available (If Gilbert had some in his bag fantastic, otherwise Seradin will attempt to make do with lengths of the rope originally used to hitch the horses to the wagon.)

Gilbert is laid across his horse, and the highwaymen are split between the two horses that were originally tied to the wagon. (both living and dead, so two per horse).

Seradin takes inventory of all of the belongings of each highwayman, but leaves searching Gilbert's bag until town is reached unless he suspects there is rope inside, in which case that is all he takes from it. All of the belongings which might be sold or be in some way useful are placed on Gilbert's horse.

Seradin takes 20 on a perception test to examine the wagon, it's contents, and the surroundings, taking anything and everything that the horses can manage to carry, prioritizing things that might be valuable first.

If the original owners of the wagon are found dead, Seradin get's off his horse, and places their bodies on it, choosing to walk while leading all of the horses to town. If they are alive, but unconscious, Seradin stabalizes them, similarly offering them his horse. If they are critically wounded but still living he casts cure light wounds on them and I'll roll OOC.

If the original owners are found and are in fact still alive, I'll let you pick this up once Seradin is able to converse with them, otherwise he'll just take everything the four horses can carry and walk to town.

[Sir Newton Fig]

There is no sign in the immediate vicinity of the original crew of this shipment, which leads you to assume that they've either fled or been taken. In the case of the latter, then there will no doubt be more brigands returning to this place before long.

Taking survey of your foes' belongings, you find a few items of particular interest. The leader's rapier is of masterful design, and it balances pleasantly in your grip. You'd wager it to be worth more than anything you've held in your hand before, save tomes containing the rarest of lore. Also on the leader's person, hidden discreetly beneath his outer tunic, you discover a shirt of finely woven chain that covers his abdomen. You also find 2 tiny vials of strange, viscous liquid in the possession of the guard which strike you as curious. And, of course, there's also that peculiar stick the leader was brandishing that gave you the uneasy feeling earlier.

Among the less noteworthy of belongings, you find the following:

three studded leather vests
one longsword
two daggers
one longbow
two shortbows
three quivers, with 28 arrows among them in total
coinpurses containing 72 gold pieces worth of assorted gold, silver and copper among them in total


You discover the wagon's cargo to be mostly grain: fifty-pound sacks of wheat, barley, rice and the like. You do however discover two thirty-pound sacks of salt among the scattered contents, which you understand to fetch a notably higher price than the grain accompanying them. You are unsure of their exact value, but you'd wager the rightful owners of this cargo would be sorrier to see the loss of those two sacks of salt than they would all the rest of the grain, monetarily speaking.

With some rope you find among Gilbert's belongings, you bind your two surviving prisoners and tether them together. With the brigands strewn over two of the horses, and Gilbert and his belongings along with anything else of value you discovered here carried by Gilbert's horse, you finally make your way for Highcrest once more.

After a couple of hours, you come over the crest of a hill and see the great capitol standing proudly along the edge of a river in the distance. The plains to each side of the river are dotted with farmland and smaller settlements, somewhat resembling your home valley; yet it looks as if Highcrest could swallow Whitbloom thrice, if not more. The great city itself is fortified by a great outer wall, and within numerous cloisters subdivide the city into several easily defended districts. A citadel towers at its heart, near the river, as if standing watch over everything around it.

Another hour brings you to Highcrest's doorstep, a great drawbridge crossing a broad, fast running moat formed by diverting part of the river around the city's fortifications. As the guards see you approach with wounded on horseback, they halt you to investigate.

"Halt, stranger. Explain these wounded you have in your company." While three guards stand directly before you, two others circle around to inspect the bodies upon the horses you have in tow. "Three dead, two alive, sir," one of them declares.

I will assume you've chosen to at least take the rapier, chain shirt, potions, coins, wand and salt sacks. If there's anything else of particular interest you wanted to do with what you found, just drop it in a spoiler and we'll consider it done.

[Karthas077]

"My companion and I were on our way to the city when we stumbled across a wagon on the side of the road. It was damaged, but when we offered our assistance the four men behind me began behaving suspiciously and attacked us. Both of the horses they are on, as well as the bags of salt I have in my possession belong to the original owners of the wagon. I would like to take the two brigands who are still living to the on duty guard captain and file an official report of the incident as soon as possible so that I can tend to the burial of my friend..."

As he speaks, Seradin does his best to sound like he knows what he's talking about, but any information he has about the proper legal procedures involving prisoners and assault is probably extremely outdated, and mostly pertains to the rights of nobles to enforce justice on their private land. Hopefully the two guards before him at least understand what he's trying to have accomplished, as the only thing on Seradin's mind is figuring out what to do with Gilbert, and finding a place to sleep for the night.


Edit: Forgot to mention I wanted to take one of the daggers with me.

Always nice to have a light weapon hidden on your person in case someone disarms you but doesn't look to closely.

[Sir Newton Fig]

The guard speaking with you, who appears to be in charge at this gate, makes an impressed expression as you conclude. He then calls out a few orders to his men: "You two, take the dead to the temple and send one of the clerics to the prison. You four, accompany the wounded to the prison and stay with them when they are revived until myself or the Justiciar arrives to relieve you." Then he addresses you: "Yes, that sounds like a fine idea. Come with me, and you can debrief with the Justiciar."

"Oh, wait!" he calls to his men who are leading two horses to the temple bearing Gilbert and the dead brigands. He then retrieves the two little sacks of salt from the cargo on Gilbert's horse. "You said these came from the wagon's cargo? We'll bring these with us."

"Okay, let's go."

The guard escorts you through the gate district toward the northeast. The district is elaborately decorated with statues, shrubbery and one great fountain from which you see some people drinking. On the way, you pass around the perimeter of an elaborate marketplace, bustling with hundreds of people. At last, you reach your destination: at the intersection of the inner cloisters dividing the districts, a small tower is built, with a guardhouse of sorts at its base.

The guard points out a hitching post nearby. "Tie your horse on there, if you like," he says, then proceeds to open the door.

"Sir," he calls out as he enters. "I've got a traveller here from the south with an incident to report." He holds the door and gestures for you to enter.

The room you are in is dimly lit by the sun coming through the small windows in the southwest wall. Unlit lanterns adorn the walls, which will have to be lit soon with the sun on its way down. Doors exit the room, leading into passages within the cloister walls. You see the stone face of the tower standing in the northern corner of this room, but no entrance to it; one must enter the tower through the passages in the wall. The room is furnished as a foyer; you stand presently upon a wool mat, and you notice hooks mounted on the wall to your left where some cloaks have been hung. Benches line the outer walls, and some paintings and tapestries decorate the inner walls; one hanging in particular on the face of the stone tower catches your eye, as you recognize it depicting the same symbol as the necklace Gilbert gave you a couple nights prior.

Two guards stand posted near the entrance. Another man, who you assume to be the "Justiciar" the gate captain referred to, enters through the cloister doorway in the northeast wall. He is middle aged -- perhaps around Gilbert's age, give or take a couple of years. His armament is noticeably more elaborate than the other guards, and he bears a familiar mark on his tabard -- again, the symbol of Ragathiel.

"Well met, traveller," he greets you with a nod as he extends his hand to shake yours. "And welcome to Highcrest. Justiciar Cole, at your service." He pauses long enough for you to make your introduction, then continues. "Let's hear what you have to say, then." As the two of you speak, he leads you out through the door he entered from.

As you pass through it, you'd wager the cloister wall is about eight feet thick. A five foot wide passage extends through it from tower to tower at each endpoint along its length. Ladders extend up periodically to trapdoors to a walkway above. The Justiciar guides you through another door opposite the one you just passed through, into another room; the room is shaped much like the foyer you were in, but instead set up as an office. Your host gestures for you to have a seat as you finish recounting your story.

[Karthas077]

As Seradin follows the guard, the sheer number of people in the market amazes him, but he's too worn out and emotionally drained to look to closely or ask the guard anything.

As they appear to reach their destination, Seradin does as he is instructed and ties his horse to the hitching post, taking but a moment to pat it's neck and thank it silently.

Once inside, the display of paintings and other decorations go almost unnoticed as his eyes are drawn to the symbol matching the one around his neck, and his hand strays to it unconsciously.

As the Justiciar introduces himself, Seradin shakes his hand, albeit somewhat weakly, and introduces himself, "Scrivener Seradin Ilthus"

As he follows him into the office, Seradin does his best to recount everything that happened, taking a seat when indicated to do so. While explaining the events that transpired, Seradin tries to downplay his role in incapacitating the men, placing most of the credit on Gilbert's actions greatly weakening the guard and him getting a 'lucky shot' on one of the cronies. Until he knew what exactly was happening to him, or where this power came from, he didn't want the wrong people finding out about him or his reason for leaving his town.

Seradin ends his story with his arrival at the city, before asking the Justiciar what will happen to Gilbert, saying that he was a follower of Ragathiel in case that mattered for treatment of the body, what would become of his belongings, and what would happen to the two surviving highwaymen.


I forgot to mention that after Kethrazel walked Seradin through a variant of the last rights performed by a cleric of Ragathiel, he put the pendant on around his neck instead of back in his pocket. It now hangs there, underneath his tunic.

Seradin does not mention the 'stick' or either of the strange bottles of liquid specifically (not in an effort to hide anything, just out of ignorance to their actual worth) instead simply generalizing his acquisition of their goods to have included a dagger, a chain shirt, and "other assorted items whose purpose he was unsure of"

(I'm assuming Gilbert's stuff is still on his horse, and that the horse and belongings were going to be returned to me after they were taken to the temple, but Seradin doesn't know that XP)

[Sir Newton Fig]

The Justiciar's face grows dark as you tell your story, but he allows you to finish before he says anything. As you finish your tale, he motions for the guard who brought you here to leave and close the door behind him.

"Gilbert, you said?" he asks somberly, staring at the symbol hanging from your neck. "And what was this Gilbert's last name, prey tell?" He bites his lower lip anxiously.

Just then, a series of memories and observations flood your mind in rapid succession: Gilbert's grimace when answering your question about what you'd find in Highcrest; Gilbert's story about how he lost the favor of his church and god; the symbol Gilbert gave you; the symbols you see adorning these chambers and your host; the man before you introducing himself as Justiciar Cole; Gilbert introducing himself to you as Gilbert Cole -- is this man Gilbert's family? Perhaps a brother or cousin?

[Karthas077]

"It was Cole, Justiciar... I'm sorry, I didn't realize..." Seradin's voice trails off, unsure of what to say. It was apparent that whatever the circumstances of their parting, it had been on less than good terms. He wished he had remembered sooner, and had approached the situation more tactfully, but now it was too late... In the silence between them, memory of the words he had spoken over Gilbert's body came to mind, and without realizing it he found himself holding the pendant and speaking them once more, "Rajel selnvz oquc yril huly luoh, fru ic ril haly ruonl, buowry awaicly eljih ic zuon casel." Have mercy upon this lost soul, who in his last hours, fought against evil in your name.

Ohhhhhh ****. I TOTALLY did not make the connection of the last names and stuff! Now I just feel bad. DX

[Sir Newton Fig]

The Justiciar's distress grows. "I am sorry, I must take some time to collect my thoughts," he says. After a pause of a few deep breaths, he continues. "You may rest tonight at the Lion's Pride here in the south gate district -- ask the guards for directions if you need them. Tell the innkeeper I sent you. I will summon you in the morning."

[Karthas077]

Seradin stands slowly, and makes his way to the door. As he reaches the doorway, he turns and says, "I'm sorry for your loss..." before continuing back to the entrance. Along the way, he tries to find a guard to ask for directions to the Lion's Pride, and does his best to pay attention to what the guard says. This task proves difficult, and Seradin nearly misses the Inn as he plods wearily down the street.

Upon entering the sounds of talking, eating, and drinking grew several times louder, and heat from a fairly crowded common room reach him, carrying with it smells of hot food and spiced wine.

[Sir Newton Fig]

Upon hearing that you were sent by Justiciar Cole, you are promptly shown to your room. The accommodations are the grandest you've ever witnessed first-hand; you'd wager the pillowcases alone are worth more than the whole bed you've slept on all these years until now. The dinner served is equally lavish, arriving in courses of increasing elaborateness instead of a mound. Despite all of these luxuries, you struggle to enjoy them after the day's traumatizing events.

That night, you relive the battle from the day before over and over in your dreams; each time you try to change the outcome to save Gilbert's life, but instead are slain yourself. Each time you wake up in a panic and cold sweat.

After revisiting the battle dozens of times, you finally allow things to play out the way they did earlier today. As you deliver your prayer over Gilbert's body, he suddenly turns his head and speaks.

"Do not mourn, Seradin, nor wish to change what has passed. This is my path, and I will rest closer to my god than I would have had our paths not crossed."

As your dream fades, you finally wake up calmly for the first time tonight. Or today, as the case may be, as you find it is now morning.

During your breakfast (which is only barely less elaborate than the dinner the night before), one of the servers delivers a note to you. It reads,

Mr. Ilthus,

I hope you have enjoyed your stay at the Lion's Pride. It is one of our finer establishments here in Highcrest, and you will find no other like it this side of the mountains.

I apologize for my lack of composure yesterday evening. I wish to meet with you again sometime today at your leisure. Take your time and attend to whatever business had brought you to Highcrest in the first place. You will find me in my office.

Regards,

Marcaus Cole

[Karthas077]

Feeling slightly better than he had the night before when he arrived, Seradin digs into the breakfast before him with gusto. Upon receiving the note, he pauses for long enough to take a long drought of water before reading it.

...whatever business had brought you to Highcrest in the first place...

Gilbert never told him what they were going to do in Highcrest specifically, merely that he should consult with the clerics of the halls of judgement about whatever it was that was happening to him. Suspecting that Justiciar Cole was at least partially connected to the order, he figured he would just visit the Justiciar first, and possibly ask for directions to the halls of judgement afterwords.

His mind made up, Seradin finishes his meal, gratefully thanks his server, and awkwardly fumbles out a silver for a tip, something that for him would normally be enough for an entire meal in and of itself.


You can either post something, or when I get back from class (in one hour) I'll continue and do my best to be descriptive of city stuff.
I also bothered to update my character sheet with the spoils of battle (checked my XP while I was at it, was pleased to find I'm halfway to level 2 :smallbiggrin:)

[Karthas077]

As Seradin retreats from the common room and gathers up his belongings, he makes a mental note to find out what was going to happen with the belongings of the highwaymen. After packing, he wastes no time at all in heading straight for the Justiciar's office, pausing only to thank the innkeeper profusely for his hospitality.

Doing his best to retrace his steps from the previous night, Seradin realizes just how little attention he was paying to his surroundings on his way to the Lion's Pride. Stone buildings and paved streets stretch in all directions, with intricately painted signs hang over the doors to the few shops in this district with wide windows in which to display their wares. Most of the buildings seem to cater to travelers and visitors to the city, most likely a result of it's proximity to the southern gate, and while most necessities one might require on the road could be acquired here, Seradin briefly recalls that the central market is not far, and indeed sees it once more on his way back to the Justiciar's office.

The beautifully rendered statue in the middle of the grand fountain he saw previously captures his attention, and he pauses for a moment to marvel at it's craftsmanship as he takes a drink from the surprisingly fresh tasting water.

For a moment Seradin wonders what his life would have been like if he had grown up in a city such as this, surrounded by so much beauty and skilled craftsmanship, before reminding himself of how grateful he should be that Master Erlan was able to take him in.

Extracting himself from his reverie, Seradin quickly finishes the rest of his journey, finding a guard and asking him if he Justiciar Cole was in, showing the letter to indicate that he was expected.

[Sir Newton Fig]

The guard at the door promptly ushers you in to the Justiciar's office.

"Ah, Mr. Ilthus, good morning," he greets you warmly as he dismisses the guard with a wave. His mood seems to have improved sharply since you last spoke. "Please, have a seat."

"I must apologize again for sending you away so abruptly yesterday evening. It's been some many years since my brother and I last spoke, and the news of his passing left me with a bit of... well, let's just say I wish that we had parted on better terms."

"But enough of that. I must ask though -- how is it you came to be travelling with Gilbert in the first place?"

[Karthas077]

At the Justiciar's question, Seradin grew still as he struggled over how to even try explaining what had transpired at the inn where he met Gilbert. Seradin wasn't exactly eager to share what he was going through. The fact that Gilbert became involved was an accident, and while he was grateful for his help and understanding, just because they were related didn't necessarily grant Marcaus the same privileges his brother had.

Unsure of what to say, he settled on telling as much of the truth as he could, without bringing up what would only be speculating. "I met him at an inn, just outside my town. I had nowhere to go, and was experiencing something which I even now cannot quite describe. Your brother helped me. He offered to guide me to Highcrest, and take me to the Halls of Judgement, a place he said I might be able to find answers to my questions. Without him I would not have made it here..."

The sobering thought with which he ended his explanation only served to make Seradin mourn the loss of such a kind man all the more. In an effort to compose himself, the young scrivener shut his eyes tight, and was relieved to not be plagued by images of Gilbert's death. Perhaps his dream from the night before had indeed brought him some measure of solace.

[Sir Newton Fig]

The Justiciar's expression grows suspicious. "Why would he lead you here?" he asks skeptically. "I am unsure if you are aware, but Gilbert used to be a member of my order until he was discharged some twenty-five years ago."

"So tell me: what is so special about you to make Gilbert want to come back here -- and to the Halls of Judgement themselves -- after all this time?" he asks, quizzically.

[Karthas077]

Seradin diverts his gaze at the Justiciar's line of questioning. "All I know about what happened twenty five years ago is what Gilbert told me. Understandably it was not a topic he was fond of, but I am aware roughly of what happened. As to why he wanted to come back after all this time..." Seradin sighs for a moment before continuing.

"He said that on the day he met me, it was the closest he'd felt to his god in twenty five years. As for why...? That is a question whose answer I suspect lies in the Halls of Judgement, for I have no explanation to offer you."

[Sir Newton Fig]

"Very well," the Justiciar replies. "We will have to make that our next stop then, won't we?"

He then gestures to a chest on the floor by the wall behind you. "That box contains anything that was with the highwaymen you brought in, as well as anything in my brother's possession that may be of assistance to you. You may help yourself to anything within that you please."

"We identified the stamp on the bags of salt you brought back with you. The clerk at the outfit they were bound for reported that there should have been three more sacks of salt on that shipment, as well as some other spices -- in addition to the grain you have already accounted for, of course. The loss of this shipment would be crippling to them, and they have requested our aid in its recovery."

"The two surviving highwaymen you brought in have been locked up in the prison and have since been revived and questioned by the priests. We know that there are ten more among their band, that they have taken some of the shipment's escort prisoner, and we have acquired the last known location of their camp. We will have to move quickly if we are to catch them before they get too far, or before any further harm comes to their prisoners."

"If I could, I would lead out a party to meet them myself, that I might bring them to justice for my brother. But I cannot leave my duties here. I want you to go in my stead, as it seems Gilbert was of some importance to you. One of our templars will lead you and four others to the location the prisoners gave us. That ought to be enough manpower to dispatch this band of riffraff. The expedition will leave tomorrow morning. What say you?"

[Karthas077]

The news that some of the men transporting the wagon of goods had been kidnapped sparked something inside Seradin. At the same time, the constant presence that now lingered just out of reach hummed in harmony with his freshly rekindled anger.

"Nothing would please me more than the chance to avenge your brother's death and rescue those prisoners."

As the words left his mouth, Seradin was only mildly surprised to hear them. Even though he was still not a fan of fighting, he now knew why he had always experienced so much turmoil back home whenever he was bullied. The injustice had left a bad taste in his mouth, and filled his heart with the fire of righteous anger, but until now he never really recognized what it was he had been feeling.

Is the chain shirt that the leader was wearing masterwork? or was it just the rapier?

In regards to the potions/wand I think Seradin will examine them this evening before he rests, and if he fails he will continue to examine them each day until he can identify what they do.

[Sir Newton Fig]

The Justiciar nods his head in approval. "Good then. See to it you're well rested tonight then. They'll call on you at the Pride tomorrow morning."

Finally, he stands and gestures to the door. "You won't mind if I accompany you to the temple then, I trust? I am eager to see what all this mystery is all about."

The chain shirt was not masterwork, no. When you get around to looking through the chest, you'll find two more potions among Gilbert's belongings, too.

I don't think you'll be able to identify the potions or wand on your own yet, though. Oracular Intuition doesn't say anything about using Spellcraft untrained, if I recall correctly. Is there something I'm missing?

[Karthas077]

Seradin has already stood and was retrieving some of the items from the chest Marcaus had gestured to previously when he spoke. As he finished dividing up the items between his backpack and his belt pouch he responded, "Not at all."

The young man straightened himself out, and once composed stepped through the office door adding, "If you would lead the way, I would greatly appreciate it. I don't know where the Halls are, or who to talk to once we get there."