[Unicorn] The Frontier of Verazemya [IC]

[Felhammer]

http://s12.postimage.org/5hndan7od/horse.png


Twelve years ago, you heard the news - Professor Semyon Molnii discovered the Vestnik and was the first human to travel to Verazemya. He returned with a mountain of mithril, which made him the third richest man in Koromya. You heard the stories of whole families being inspired by the Professor, rushing off to the "Frontier" to find their own bit of fame and fortune. You also heard the terrible statistics of how three quarters of all people who traveled to Verazemya never return. You heard the tales of rabid mantis-men rending a man's chest open with ease, of terrifying creatures like Owlbears and Winter Wolves, of enormous Giants and tiny Faeries. You heard the rumors of the crown sending prisoners to Verazemya rather than to the over-crowded stockades. You knew the government of Koromya was corrupt but you never imagined that the Crown Guards would accuse you of a crime (that you may or may not have committed), arrest you and send you off to the dreaded frontier of Verazemya...

You resisted, as anyone would, but the chains were tight and the guards dreadfully serious. You were shoved through the pink-purple portal and instantly transported to Verazemya. You stood atop the hard, stone ruins of an ancient, heathen pyramid; before you stood the town of Evagrad, the largest settlement on the Frontier. No one batted an eye as you were marched down the pyramid steps and into the Tower of Orel, where Prince Boris reigned supreme. While the corpulent man devoured enough food to feed a small village, he informed you that though you could never return to Koromya, there was much you could do here on the Frontier. That you could start your life anew and become famous, wealthy and, perhaps, even a legend. By his decree, he pardoned you of your crimes, gave you 100 gold and asked that you leave his presence with a modicum of dignity.


http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v614/RHO1/UnicornTavern_zps75b63981.png

As you are escorted out of the Orel Tower, you immediately become aware of the heat of the noon-day sun beating down oppressively overhead. It is summer on the Frontier, which is surprising since when you left Koromya, it was the dead of winter. Shedding some of your excess clothing, you wander out into the cobblestone street. You see a quaint little town of no more than a few thousand around you. Two towers and the pyramid dominate the skyline. In the distance, you can make out a heavy wooden wall surrounding the entire town. The people in the street appear to run the gamut between rich and poor, city-dweller and explorer. You spy a nice looking Tavern near the pyramid; the gentle summer breeze blows by, shaking the sign back and forth. It reads "The Traveling Unicorn’s Hall, come for a drink, leave for adventure." Considering what you have just been through, no one would fault you for partaking in some Ale... Or some mead... Or some wine... Heck, whatever the tavern may serve, really.

The Traveling Unicorn’s Hall is a pleasant looking establishment, split into two levels. The first is a fairly typical tavern, populated with a mixture of different shaped and sized tables, a long bar, a large stone hearth and a small stage. Above the tavern on the second floor, appears to be a petite inn. The tavern has a fair number of people, mostly minding their own business. No one looks up as you enter. A short Halfling stands atop the stage singing traditional drinking songs. A few of the patrons sing, some would say slur, along loudly. The Barkeep is a jovial looking male Human, who sports a long ivory white apron and fairly long brown beard.

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley tugs at one of her long locks, sighing exasperatedly. Oh, she disliked the heat. Disliked summer. Her brothers would all link arms and drag her about the room, singing merrily of all the good times... but Ridley found that, compared to her jolly brothers, she was much more morose.

Came as no surprise at least, that she felt drawn to an entirely different clerical order. Also came as no surprise that she hated, hated, HATED the thought of suitors chasing after her, and her mother who insisted she never cut her hair because, 'Dear, your hair is beautiful'.

Now, far away from home, Ridley strongly considers chopping it all off. Gone, like the wind. Maybe give them to some bald soothsayer who believes they can cultivate it on their own head. Hah! Wouldn't that be a sight!

She plops down near the bar. "I've got coin that says you've got great mead," she grins, still amused by the thought. "An' since I read y'advertise adventure, I'm hopin' to replace that coin quickly."

[Henry the 57th]

Count von Etera

Disgusting wretch the count thinks as his small party walks down the street. Disgusting, fat, obscene... filth! He grits his teeth even as he guides his horse towards the taverns. They say one can always find what one is looking for in taverns... He ponders the question for a moment, before deciding that it's at least worth a try. It's not like he has anything better to do.

Handing over his horse to his retainers, the count orders them to stay outside and watch, both over his horse and for any incoming trouble. "Don't want to attract too much attention in a tavern straight away, you know." he says to the now rather harried elves. "Don't worry, he says in a softer tone, despite what that bloated toad told us, we will get home again someday. I swear to you." The retainers perk up slightly at their count's oath.

Entering the tavern, Count von Etera looks around. He snorts softly in disgust at the rampant alcoholism on display. And that music... he suppresses a shudder. Inferior, but what else could he expect?

The count walks over to the bar and sits down on the cleanest seat he can find. "I don't suppose you might have anything of elven make?" he asks the bartender.

[Felhammer]

The Barkeep looks positively shocked to see not one but two new faces! "The name's Pasha Petrov. I own this little gem of a Tavern. Bought it after I retired from a life of adventuring out in the wilds up north of here. I fought Gnomes, Bogolos, Orcs, Goblins and Centaurs. I ventured into deep mines, dark forests and under the sea. I've seen it all, done it all. But that's me, we're here to talk about you."

The plain looking man bows deeply before the fair maiden and pours her a tankard of mead, "They call this Gnomic Honeyshroom Mead. It is very rare and very expensive. For you, it is free for you have relieved my tired old eyes of the weariness of age and shed twenty years off my soul."

He then looks over at the Count and merely says, "Elven... I do have a bottle of Old Elven Brandy sitting around here, from twenty years back. This, like the mead, is very expensive and - unfortunately - one of a kind. I could be persuaded to part with it but, it would cost you a fair amount of coin. Say, fifty Crowns?"

[Servbot]

Ridley

Seated beside her, one of those foppish Elves! Oh, Ridley remembers her first run in with elves. Their arrogance, unequalled. Thought elf society was the height of all civilisation, when really, they died just as much as any human. Well, strictly less, but only because there were less of them. As far as her line of work goes, though, Ridley's helped plenty of elves settle into the after-life; Enough to know that, when it comes down to it, everyone's equal when they die.

"Hah! I like y'r style, barkeep!" Ridley says, eyes glimmering. "Blessings of the Lady upon ye!" She thankfully takes the tankard, taking a deep drink before setting it down. "I'm Ridley Ironarm, though the arm's my grandfather's. 'fraid I haven't a list of adventures to give, but I hope to be able to, some day."

[Felhammer]

Pasha smiles warmly as he watches Ridley quaff the tankard. "Now you mentioned Adventure, did you not? Well..." He leans in close and puts his hand up so as to prevent the High Elf from eavesdropping, "I have heard rumors - and you know how rumors go - but this rumor was from a fairly reliable source you see. My informant told me that he spotted a downed cart to the south of here... A cart filled with," and he whispers this part, "Mithril. My informant was badly hurt by an attack from raging nymphs. Said he barely escaped with his life. Swore never to return. I bought the information off him for a pretty penny..." The Barkeep leans back and nods. Would you be interested in such information?"

Count von Etera Your long Elven ears are much more finely tuned to picking up soft sounds. The Barkeep made a valiant effort of hiding his conversation but, alas, you heard every word.

[Henry the 57th]

"Gratifying as it is to see my people's work held in such deserved high esteem, perhaps we might negotiate a lower price, hmmm?"

[Servbot]

Ridley

Wise not to mingle in the affairs of elves (though if it's up to Ridley, the fop can go take a hike right now), Ridley focuses on the matter at hand: Something to do which, with some degree of hope, would bring either honour to her hand, an opportunity to perform her services or, better yet, more coin.

No one said a priest had to eschew gold and favour sermons -- honestly, Ridley finds the former to have a much sweeter voice.

"I would at that," Ridley completely ignores the elf's attempts at cheaper drinks, "s'how much coin we talkin' about, and is the information exclusive?"

[Felhammer]

Pasha rolls his eyes at the count and flashes a stern gaze, "Sir, you cannot just barter with the likes of me. Do I look like a man who barters?" The Barkeep's frown quickly turns into laughter, "Had you goin' there for a minute, didn't I?"

As he continues to laugh, he looks over at Ridley and says, "The information isn't cheap, nor can I guarantee exclusivity. You see, there's gang of Bandits out that way. Call themselves the Black Desperados. Their leader, one Henreik Von Bach, is known assassin. Heck, last summer he tried to kill Prince Boris! He's a High Elf (not unlike your friend), who's long wished to kill Prince Boris and his family, then take over Evagrad! I'd hate to see them find that cache *ahem* and use it to fund their devious efforts."

[Henry the 57th]

"Then what say we talk like reasonable adults." replies von Etera, not particularly amused at the man's joke.

When the count hears what the bartender says to the girl, he leans in close and whispers to him. "And what would be so bad about that? The obese man is already quite a poor leader, and a poor host, if you ask me."

[Servbot]

Ridley

The girl nods during this tale, but raises a hand in protest at one detail. "His Higness here's no friend a'mine," the cleric corrects. "He─or she, can ne'er tell wi'elves─just plopped down next t'me.

"Now, though, a quest 'gainst villainy! There's somethin' t'get the blood stirrin'. Awright, how much's this gonna cost me? And," she turns towards the Count, levelling a finger at his chest, "I know you Elves think you're so much better than us, but would it kill you to have the common decency to hold your flappin' yap while we're talkin'?!"

[Henry the 57th]

The count shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Seeing your inferiors so riled up is always such a amusement.

He lightly brushes aside the finger. "I'm afraid that I came here for information on adventuring opportunities to be found, and this sounds like one to me."

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Unbelievable. I serve faithfully, only to end up here, and look at that fat pig in that tower. I bet he's the least trustworthy of anyone.

Gorsomm walks away from the tower with a scowl on his face. Absent-mindedly he fingers his twin battleaxes as he as walks. Figuring that a drink is definitely called for, Gorsomm makes for the Unicorn tavern. As he enters, he glances around before making for the bartender. He sees him with a bit of a group, so Gorsomm walks up and rather gruffly says, "Barkeep, mug of ale."

[Servbot]

Ridley

"Adventure? Hah! Well, s'that so, huh?" She sizes the elf up. Well, far as elves go, they're all the fragile-looking sort. 'Course, they're known for their wizardry, so he might be formidable. Maybe.

She turns back to the bartender. "Pasha, since we've here got the interest in th'same deal a'yours, how 'bout you tell us both, we split the cost, eh?" She grins at the high elf. "Unless, a'course, y'r dyin' to spend more elfgolds than y'need to."

[Henry the 57th]

"Acceptable," says the count, "If this is all you say it is." he says, looking the barman in the eye.

[Felhammer]

The Barkeep's laughter trails off at von Etera's suggestion. "You shouldn't speak in such a manner. Ever since the assassination attempt, it's been deemed illegal to even discuss the idea of... Well, you know. Now I'll admit Prince Boris isn't the best ruler there ever was (especially not after Vadipole) but he's a far sight better than his son, Duke Grigoriy. That boy's attitude makes High Elves look like the kindest, most loving folk in the world. Most of us townsfolk fear the day when Duke Grigoriy ascends to the throne... Hopefully the Count of Fort Sveta can wiggle his way onto the throne on account of his soon-to-be marriage to Prince Boris' eldest daughter... One can only hope."

The man sighs, then says, "One Crown for a glass of this Elven Brandy. Will that do goodsir?" As Pasha gathers the bottle of brandy and the cleanest (and smallest) glass, he looks at Ridley and says, "Thirty Crowns for the information."

[Felhammer]

Pasha greets the new arrival with a warm smile, "Welcome, welcome! Here's a tankard of ale to sooth the post-teleportation jitters from your bones. On the house that one is. Enjoy."

[Henry the 57th]

Count von Etera smiles at the bartender's offer for the brandy."Yes, that's far more reasonable. A glass of elven brandy, please." When he gets the glass, he pays fairly.

He leans in to whisper closely to the barman again. "I thought you said the elf wanted to kill Boris and his family, then take over himself. His family would include this son, would it not?"

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

The fat pig isn't the best leader? Color me shocked.

Nodding at the barkeep, "I appreciate that. First decent thing to happen to me in a long time. I couldn't help but overhear a mention of adventure and information. Right about now I could use a reason to go bury my axes into something."

[Felhammer]

The Barkeep bellows out with laughter! He slaps the Elf on his shoulder and yells, "I never looked at it that way before! I like the way you think!" After a few more moments of laughter, Pasha looks the the new arrival and says, "Ah, so you think yourself a warrior, eh?" He gives you the once over, "You're a far sight more muscular than the standard lot we get coming through the Vestnik these days. I think these two could use your help... Though, this endeavor will not be simple nor easy. You would do well with a fourth companion, if you could find one." The Barkeep pours the High Elf his glass of brandy and tops off Gorsomm's tankard.

[Henry the 57th]

The count smiles. "They always do, my good man. They always do."

He takes an almost delicate sip of brandy, savoring the deep, woody flavor with just a hint of bitter and an oddly sweet aftertaste. It's a pity that superior alcohol is in such short supply in this backwater. Perhaps this assassin, if high elf he truly is, will have some I can negotiate away... or take from his corpse. The count smiles, then shrugs a little. Either way...

The count apprises the warrior before him. Hmmm... I could always do with more meat between myself and the enemy, if nothing more. Perhaps he'll even surprise me.

Aloud, he says to the warrior, "I agree. Your prescene on our little team here would be most beneficial for both of us. What would you say to joining our merry band?" The count wraps his arm around the woman and gives a friendly smile.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Taking a big drought from the mug, "I don't think myself a warrior, I know I am one. Was a sergeant in the army before coming to this damned place. These axes aren't for show."

"I'm not much for smooth talkers. But if you're going somewhere interesting, I might be interested." He flexes a bit, "I know what I bring to the table, what do you?"

[Henry the 57th]

"The arts, mysteries, and secrets of the arcane." Count von Etera smiles.

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley very, very delicately removes herself from the Count's embrace. By which I mean she shoves him off of her.

"Hands t'yourself," she growls, before turning her attention to the new arrival. "Well, more's the merrier, so you're welcome t'join me and I'll even let this fop here join us." She clearly indicates the elf.

"As f'r my services, I've got prayer and sermons straight from th'Lady, an' if those won't work, well," Ridley points to the axe on her back, "there's always the blessings of th'axe."

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm chuckles. "I like your style. I don't know much about the Lady, but I certainly know about bestowing axely blessings. The name's Gorsomm."

[Servbot]

Ridley

"Ridley," comes the response, and with an eye on the barkeep, "So Pasha, four makes trouble splittin' 30 Crowns, so how's 'bout we split it 'mong the three of us, an' if we find someone t'join us, well, that'll be our problem, yeah?" So saying, she reaches into her pouch to place 10 Crowns on the bar, looking at the other two expectantly.

[Henry the 57th]

"Hynius von Etera. A pleasure meeting you both." says the count with a friendly smile, having decided not to reveal his nobility to his new companions quite yet. He raises his glass in a toast. "And may our adventures prove fruitful for all of us."

[Felhammer]

Pasha smiles once again, he is obviously a kind-hearted soul. He whips out three waterskins and fills each with a half gallon of beer. "Back in my day, we called these Beerskins. Me thinks they'll serve you well on your long journey. Now then..." He calls over one of his wenches and tells her to man the bar. He motions for you to follow him into the basement. The stairs groan under the collective weight of three adventurers and the barkeep. The basement is cool and damp, filled with the fine musk of wood barrels cheap alcohol. A small table lies at the center of the basement. Pasha unfurls a makeshift map on top of the table.

"I had my informant scribble this map. I apologize for the condition, he was in quite the hurry to get out of town. In my down-time, I scribbled in the coat of arms for Evagrad and Zerna (I think it came out pretty good, no?). At any rate, this is the map. The red dots represent a common shepherd's trail. There are no roads past Zerna, so you'll have to figure out where the trail is exactly but... I'm sure you can figure it out. He mentioned turning south at the dead tree... I assume that's why the trail turns green. Like I said, he was in quite the hurry to rush out of town, so the map isn't perfect but... It will lead you in the right direction."

The Make-shift Map http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v614/RHO1/makeshiftmap_zps770ac65d.png

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla had only been in the city a few weeks, but had used that time to carefully find out all the little rumors and intricacies she could by spending time in the various taverns. When the mention of Mithril was made by Pasha Petrov two days ago she decided to hang around waiting for someone to help her retrieve it, trading her singing for ale and lodging.

She finished her song and jump off the stage, making her way over to a group of possible applicants that were being led by Pasha down to the cellar. She followed silently, hiding between their very legs without them noticing and listened in.

[Felhammer]

Theakalla deftly maneuvers herself past the drunken rabble in the tavern and ably avoids the attention of the Bar Wench. She scuttles down the stairs with ease, avoiding each and every spot that creeks or groans (obviously this is not her first time delving into the basement...).

She listens in on the Pasha finish his deal, "So, this is the map. This is what you want. Now," He folds the map up and gently sets it into his back pocket. Let us discuss payment. I have given you the information, and that will cost you 30 crowns. The map... Will cost you an extra 10. Hardly a trifle compared to the wealth you shall reap from the cache of mithirl..."

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla slides into the darkness and becomes one with it, she was named Shadowheart for reason after all. Her eyes adjusted in an instant and she felt at home.

Carefully making her way around the troupe, she settled into shadows behind Pasha. As he put the map in his back pocket she considered taking it, but thought better of that plan. Instead she would wait for the old fool to take these poor sods coin, and then relieve him of that, plus whatever else was in his coin purse.

After all, returning their money back to them would only help endear her to these three people.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm stares hard at Pasha, "Ten crowns for that map? You're kidding right? It has pretty much one marker on it, and I'm sure there's more than one dead tree out there." Gorsomm flexes again, and drops his hands, idly playing with his battleaxes some more, "It seems to me that the thirty crowns you said earlier, already a high sum given the state of affairs around here, should include the map."

[Felhammer]

Pasha balks, "This is very privileged information, it is worth it's weight in shimmering mithril. You will be wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice and you scoff at giving me an extra 10 crowns? Who is the greedy one now?" He strokes his beard a few times before relenting, "Thirty one crowns and we'll call it a deal."

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley isn't quite fond of going to haggle over things now. The entire business reeks, but to be fair, the man had given her free mead, and she could afford another coin. The girl reaches for one Crown in addition to the ten she'd given earlier, and hands it to Pasha.

"I'll take it," the cleric mumbles, "Though I 'preciate knowin' full cost 'forehand, not aft'wards."

[Felhammer]

"Pleasure doing business with you. Now," Pasha fills his coin purse with all thirty one crowns, attaches it to his belt and continues, "You best be off and having fun on your adventure. Enjoy those complementary Beerskins and don't hesitate to come back after you're rich."

He escorts you out of the basement, gives Ridley a pat on the back and wanders off to help other customers.

[Darth_Versity]

Sleight of Hand [roll0]+[roll1]+4=24

Oh hell yeah, one relieved coin purse. Just driving off so have some txt up in about 30 mins.

[Felhammer]

With remarkable grace and manual dexterity, Theakalla lifts the coin purse off the barkeep's belt. He is none the wiser to the theft. She pries the purse open and finds...

[roll0] Crowns, a small vile filled with an orange liquid and a dark stone ring. Upon further investigation, the ring has Dwarven runes inscribed upon it that glow faintly purple.

[Henry the 57th]

"If that's all then, let's be off." says the count.

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley carefully tucks the map away in her backpack. She nods at the Count. "In a hurry, eh? Rare f'r you elves, seem y'r too strung-- N'ermind, let's go."

She doesn't like agreeing with the elf, but they could stand to get a move on. Pasha did mention he'd shared the information with more, and a map that crummy was easy to forge. Why the hell'd she buy it anyway?

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla exits the building and waits outside for them. She leaves the 31 crowns in the bag and pockets the rest. As they walk out she gives a hearty greeting.

"Hi there. My names Theakalla. Theakalla Shadowheart. And I happen to know two things. First, you need another companion for your expedition. And second, this is yours." and she throws the coin purse over with the crowns still inside.

"Hopefully the ability to reacquire your money shows how handy my abilities are."

[Henry the 57th]

The count smiles warmly. "Indeed it does. And we were looking for a fourth member. Welcome to the group." Privately he resolves to keep a close eye on his own purse from now on.

Once outside, the count wanders over to his horse and retainers. "Lady and gentlemen." he says to the two male elves and one female. "My new companions, my horse, and I are off on a bit of a minor adventure. While I'm gone, make yourselves useful and secure lodgings for us. Lodgings worthy of my statute, if you are able. My thanks." Count von Etera mounts his horse. "I am ready to leave. Are you?"

[Servbot]

Ridley

... couldn't believe her ears! "Are y'saying ya just STOLE Pasha's money?!" she asks, incredulous. She still takes the money though: The tenets of Deathdirge do not speak of being law-abiding citizens. Only that they follow, to the letter and spirit, of the writ laws of the dead and dying.

Now Pasha was neither dead nor, presumably, dying, so it'd probably be all right, but...

"What in Morabog's name possessed ya t'steal'is hard-earned coin an' expect us to be all chums 'bout it?!"

The entire ordeal of the fop being an actual fop with, apparently, an entourage is too unimportant in comparison.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm looks at Ridley, "Once again, I must say I like your style." He turns and looks down at Theakalla, "Be glad we're here and not back home, for I would run you in for that. As it is, we should not just act like uncivilized fools here."

Gorsomm looks around and sighs, "But we are here, rightly or wrongly, and we need to make the best of it. I am ready to head out whenever."

[Darth_Versity]

"Well... fom what I saw Pasha took your money, I just returned it. If you want to say its Pasha's money... thats up to you."

[Henry the 57th]

"I agree with the little their here. That man was clearly severely overcharging for everything from alcohol to information. Also, I would put good odds on this whole thing being a con or trap. If he knows where a good amount of treasure is to be found with such inadequate guards that a newly-minted team like ourselves can realistically expect to obtain it, why doesn't he go get it himself? No, it seems too suspicious to trust him completely on this. And if he is steering us right, we can always "find" and return the money once we get back."

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley throws up her arms. "I don't care 'nuff to get into a fight about it, but," and she whirls to the thief, staring sharply, "If'n ye tag 'long wi'us, I expect t'hold on to my coin, 'less I spend it m'self. Clear?"

She raises to her full height (and bites back the urge to comment on the Count's need to compensate his own height with a horse), and watching everyone says, "Right, 'less any of us don't bring food or whatnot, I think we're right ready t'leave, an' since the day's early, let's get on the road."

And if there's no protests, that's exactly what she'll be doing. Getting on that road.

[Henry the 57th]

"Of course, fearless leader." says the count, urging his horse to follow Ridley.

[Felhammer]

You gather your supplies, steel your hearts and make for the road leading to adventure!

The road begins at the tall wooden gates of Evagrad. The surrounding countryside is dominated by orderly rows of wheat and corn, with a few farm houses dotted here and there. The farmers pay you no mind but their children seem enthralled. Several follow you for almost a mile before turning around and heading home. The road zigzags to Zerna, a small village that sits astride the wide, slow-moving Zern River. You break for a meal in the village, the locals tell tall tales of a creature that lives to the north called Madhowl. One local even claims the creature stole three of his pigs and left the half eaten carcass of another in his field. Though the man seems adamant, the cook tells you that the farmer is known for weaving incredible stories.

You find an elderly fisherman willing to help you ford the river, in exchange for helping him drag up his nets full of fish. With Gorsomm's prodigious strength, the task proves child-like in its difficulty. Once on the other side river, you enter a wild land full of tall grass and radiant orange flowers. As you search around for the Shepherd's trail, Theakalla spots three Wolves about fifty feet away. They look playful, and not quite full grown. Still, very dangerous. Luckily, you landed downwind of the pack, thus they are not aware of your presence... Yet.

[Henry the 57th]

The count looks to the wolves, then back to Ridley. "Well?"

[Servbot]

Ridley

Well what? Oh! Long trip's made brains soggy and reflexes tired.

"Well, figure we could skirt 'round 'em, but na, good time's any t'see how w'all hold up t'gether. Wouldn't do to only just figure out what w'all can do when we really get inna scuff! Righ'en," Ridley turns to the Halfling and her axe-wielding compatriot.

"Three of us, we'll be brawlin' up close, I 'magine. As f'r you..." she turns to the elf, "Wizardry, right? Just blast 'em down, keep 'em from flanking us then, aye? Need one of us to stand by you, or will you be okay at a range, Your Highness?" Make no mistake that the title is said with irony.

[Henry the 57th]

The count gives a smile. "As you command, oh great leader." He summons his powers to invoke magical protection around himself. "Whenever you are ready."

Using Mage Armor on myself.

[Felhammer]

The wolves continue to play, obvious to your presence.


You are in a surprise round! You get a free turn! All 4 of you may act in any order. Once all 4 have gone, we'll start the next round.

INITIATIVE: Round 1

R
G
W1
T
C
W1
~ End of Turn ~
W3

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm chuckles to himself, She'd have done well in the army.

"Charge right in axes shining eh?"

[Darth_Versity]

"Get up close? Are you insane? Why in the nine hells would I go and get close to three wolves?"

She pulls out a sling and loads a stone in. "I'm staying back here."

[Servbot]

Ridley

The cleric just shrugs, then nods to Gorsomm.

"Right, pointy-ears and hairy-foot to the rear, an' the two of us'll give 'em the whatfor with axes. Let's do this!" She takes the great-axe from her back and holds it in front of her... but a quick gander at the wolves makes Ridley change her mind.

"Change a' plans a bit. Gorsomm, I'll draw 'em in t'ward us, as they're a bit too far away t'reach quickly, methinks. Just get ready to give 'em a whallop." So saying, she points her axe's tip towards the nearest of the wolves... starts walking towards them slowly... mumbles some words of prayer... and a brilliant light glimmers brightly from her axe, before shooting outward in a violent beam of light! If that won't catch their attention, nothing will.

50ft is too far away for Ridley and Gorsomm to reach on foot, so drawing the wolvies close.

No Action: Drawing a weapon is considered not to take an action.
Movement: Ridley moves 10ft ahead of the rest of the group.
Action: Ridley casts her cantrip lance of faith at the nearest wolf within 50ft.
Attack roll: [roll0]
Damage roll: [roll1]

[Felhammer]

Ridley fires off a shimmering golden lance at one of the wolves. The lance envelops the beast and disintegrates it fully, leaving only ashes where once stood a proud wolf.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm nods and pulls out a javelin, hurling it at the wolves.

[roll0]
[roll1] Thrown weapons do Dex damage not Str, or is that an error (or just plain dumb) too?

[Henry the 57th]

The count nods in faint respect at the cleric's display of magic. Impressive. Such a shame such magic comes at the price of slavery to the divine. Brushing off his thoughts, he unleashes one of his own spells at the wolves - a ray of sheer cold, to freeze the very blood in their veins.

Ray of Frost on the nearest living wolf within 100 feet.

Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage Roll: [roll1]

If it hits and the wolf survives, its speed is reduced by 10 feet until the end of my next turn.

[Felhammer]

Gorsomm's javelin pierces one of the wolves' heads and pins it to the ground. Meanwhile, the Count's ray of frost strikes the remaining wolf and flash friezes it into a giant ice cube.

[Servbot]

Ridley

For a moment, the cleric is quiet. But then, a grin creeps onto her face, and moments later she laughs out loud.

"Good grief people!" she laughs merrily. "I almost feel bad now, c'sidering those wolves didn't stand a ghost o'a chance rightens. Well! M'thinks th'journey can continue, and careful planning's a laugh." So saying, Ridley approaches the bodies, prepared to at least send their souls off best as she can in this remote world.

After all, in death, all are equal, and these wolves are no exception.

[Henry the 57th]

Count von Etera grins as he sees his own spell casually dispatch the wolf. All too easy. he thinks, his mind filling with images of one day dispatching much greater beings with such casual ease.

"You might want to keep a watch out." the count warns the cleric as she approaches the bodies. "Those are unlikely to represent the pack's full strength."

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla shrugs at the display of power and casually places her sling back. If these guys could deal with every danger that quickly, she may have chosen the right group.

"Well then. Shall we?" she asked, while gesturing to continue along the route.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm walks over to the wolf his javelin hit and pulls it out of the wolf's head. Wiping the point off on the wolf's fur, "No way this is a full pack, we definitely need to keep an eye out. But I'm ready to move on."

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley rises, sparing no words for the high elf. Instead, her sights at set at the horizon. "These corpses'll attract the bigger pack, m'afraid. We'll face more a'these if'n we're unlucky, so might b'best we be prepared."

The cleric points in the distance. "W'ought t'be nearby, gotta look f'r the landmark and move onward. Anything crosses our path, we can deal w'it, right?" She moves on, intent on leading this group. Not because of divine mandate or what have you, but Ridley can't help but take initiative. Growing up among boys does that to a girl, she figures.

[Henry the 57th]

The count nudges his horse to follow at a slow pace, careful to keep from being in the lead.

[Felhammer]

You continue on your way, trying to find the shepherd's path. Eventually you stumble upon a lightly trekked trail with the tell tale signs of sheep. You follow the path for another hour before spotting the dead tree... Which isn't really a tree upon further investigation. It is actually a petrified Treant! The look on the poor creature's face is one of horror. Obviously he did not die well.

You head south, as the map suggests. After traveling through windswept meadows for another half hour, you hear footfalls and hushed whispers from a small grove of trees up ahead. As you reach for your armaments, an older high elf (wearing a mud-stained blue tunic) rushes out, drops to his knees and prostrates himself before the Count, yelling, "NOBLE LORD! SAVE US FOR WE CANNOT SAVE OURSELVES! Bandits have taken my beautiful daughter captive! I am but a weak old man! It is your chivalric duty to save her! I will do anything to see her returned safely! Anything, my lord!"

[Henry the 57th]

The count is mildly taken aback at the elf grubbing in the mud at his feet, but does not let it show. "Calm yourself!" he says, sternly, in elvish. "Tell me the whole story, from the start, and everything you know."

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm looks around, alert for trouble as the elves talk. As usual when he's concentrating on something, his hands fall to his battleaxes, fingering the handles idly.

[Felhammer]

The High Elf looks at the ground as he tells his tale, "I am a simple prospector, my lord. I mine the northern mountains for various metals and gems, most especially mithril. About two weeks ago, I came across a deep vein of mirthril. I worked day and night to pull it all from the earth. I sent a messenger hawk to Evagrad to fetch my daughter and some hired hands to help bring my haul back to town. All was going according to plan until we exited the Shadowhorse Forest. A group of bandits wearing black bandanas over their faces beset my cadre and I."

"The mercenaries held off the outlaws, while my daughter and I ferried the cart away out of sight. In my youth, I was trained to be a wizard but, I never much enjoyed the magical arts. Regardless, I never forgot how to cast a few useful spells. I utilized a scroll of invisibility on my cart to hide it from the bandits. My daughter and I then split up and ran in opposite directions. We agreed to meet up near the Zern river in two days time. She never showed up. Oh my lord, I am sure the outlaws found her! That is the only explanation for why she is not to be found! Who knows what those bastards could be doing to her!" The Elf slams his fist into the ground and begins to weep, "Please my lord! Please save my daughter. You are my only hope!"

[Henry the 57th]

While the story sounding very reasonable to the count's ears, one thing nagged at his keen mind. "Tell me," he says, "How did you know I was a lord? I come from very far away, have been here mere hours, and have told no one of my noble status."

[Felhammer]

The man throws his face into the dirt, "You are wearing clothing of an exquisite nature, you are riding atop a majestic steed, your retinue includes two warriors, three courtiers and a jester. Your persona exudes majesty even from afar. If you are not a lord, then you should speak to Prince Boris himself and demand a title."

[Henry the 57th]

The count barely resists laughing at the idea of the party being his courtiers. If only they were so obliging.

Aloud, he says. "Do you know where these bandits might be?"

[Darth_Versity]

"Wait... Did he just call me a jester? Seriously? You come looking for help and thats how you approach the subject." She looks dumb struck by the very idea that someone could mistake her for a jester.

"OK, I only want one bit of proof. You said you dig up gems and mithril. Surely no self respecting person would leave all of it on a cart. It would make sense to keep some, either as a bargaining chip if captured or compensation if the cart was taken. So where is it?"

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm snickers at Theakalla's reaction. "A reasonable question. After all, how do we know you are not a bandit yourself trying to lure us into a trap with your sob story? Of course, having mithril proves nothing in and of itself."

Gorsomm looks at Ridley, "You seem to enjoy taking charge, so what do you think?"

[Servbot]

Ridley

If Ridley is at all trying to hide her scepticism, she is doing a rather poor job of it.

"What I think," she begins, first eyeing Gorsomm but very quickly moving her gaze to the high elf old man, "What I think is, y'r addressin' th'wrong man, here, feller," the cleric interjects, eyeing the old man warily. "If anythin', fancy-pants too-good-t'-talk Common here is part a' our retinue, an' he's a fop at that!" Obviously not following the conversation in Elven. Friggin' pointy-ears and their fancy-schmancy secret languages!

She rubs her chin thoughtfully. Honestly, what're the odds of being accosted by a needy man in the middle of friggin' nowhere who just so happens to be also interested in a cache of mithril?

By the balls of Morabog that was just unlikely. Ridley was fine with waiting for him to answer the Halfling's request.

[Henry the 57th]

"Well I am a count, and an elf at that. It would only make sense that he would come to me first, of all of us." says the count in reply to Ridley's comment.

The count felt that the halfling's request was perfectly reasonable, and so waited for the elf to answer.

[Felhammer]

The High Elf scrambles a bit, patting down his person for any evidence he can. Before he finishes, you hear the blood curdling howl of more wolves. From the north, the east, the south and the west appear wolves. There are three types of wolves, the smallest being gray in color, the next largest are white, while the largest is fully black. All of them appear ready for a fight.


MAP LINK
(https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/ccc?key=0Ak0YmvfUeoIIdE5heWxmRDl6MmJ2alBoSUM0UV9SW Xc#gid=0)

If a player is up, and there are no enemies between you and the person who is up, go ahead and post (saves time that way).

[Darth_Versity]

At the sound of the howl Theakalla already has her sling out and a bullet loaded. As the first one bursts through the northern brush she lets the sling whip round, sending the shot flying in its direction.

Attack against G2
Attack [roll0]
Damage [roll1] (the extra D6 is my martial damage die)

[Felhammer]

Theakalla's sling bullet flies unerringly at it's target. An audible crack can be heard as the bullet slams into the beast's throat and snaps it's spine.

[Servbot]

Ridley

"I'd argue, but we've company. Old man, s'either fight or flight f'r now, an' I'd 'preciate you choose fight."

With no time to really respond to the fop's comment ("Pshaw, a count? And I'm the duchess of royalville!"), Ridley interposes herself between high elf and the black wolf, sending another beam of holy energy flying towards the wolves!

Clearly they just don't know what they're dealing with.

Ridley moves to H9.
Action: Lance of faith at black wolf.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Does magic get any static bonuses?

[Felhammer]

Ridley's lance of faith misses by only a few degrees, puncturing a hole in a nearby tree. Meanwhile, the three gray wolves rush into combat in a surprisingly tactical manner. They rush for poor Theakalla and Gorsomm. The first and second wolf attack the fighter, while the third lunges for the halfling.


G3: Attack v G: [roll0]//Hit: 1 Piercing Damage
G4: Attack v G: [roll1]//Hit: 1 Piercing Damage
G1: Attack v T: [roll2]//Hit: 1 Piercing Damage

Oops, forgot to include the slashes, reposing.

[Henry the 57th]

Frowning, the count points two of his fingers at the white wolf approaching the group and leashes a beam of sheer cold at it.

Ray of Frost at W1: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

If it is hit and survives, it is slowed by 10 feet until they end of my next turn.

[Felhammer]

The the icy attack hits, smothering the beast's paws with ice. Regardless, the pair of snow-white wolves are undaunted. They rush forward, lunging at poor Ridley.


W1: A v R [roll0]// D: 3 points
W2: A v R [roll1]// D: 3 points

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm brings his axes to bear (well, wolf), setting about the task of dealing with this new threat.

"Knew there'd be more of these guys around."

[roll0] [roll1]
[roll2] [roll3]

Target G4, if attack 1 kills it, target G3.

[Felhammer]

Gorsomm slams his axe down into the wolf's skull but the beast dodges at the very last second, escaping the powerful attack. He then swings his other axe around and finds purchase against the wolf's ribcage. The wolf lets out a mournful howl before falling dead.

[Felhammer]

The largest wolf - the ebony black one - stalks his prey for a few moments, waiting for the other wolves to harry the Cleric. When an opening is created, the lumbering wolf bolts forward and crashes into Ridley with remarkable speed and power.


Black Wolf

Move: Up to Ridley
Action: Attack Ridley: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Note: If I do max damage, Ridley is knocked prone.

[Servbot]

Ridley

When it comes to fighting, Ridley's no push-over, and she handily parries the wolves, and what she can't catch, her armour does. And once the black one's had his try, Ridley decides it's time for a proper counter-attack! Axe in hand, she swings it at the frost-bitten wolf.

Yep, attack the wolf that was ray of frost'd with axe.
[roll0] for attack, and [roll1] for damage.

[Felhammer]

The frostbitten wolf props himself on two legs to try and shove the Cleric to the ground. However, Ridley buries her axe in his soft underbelly, disemboweling him. He falls to the ground, whimpers a few times before letting death take him away from his pain.

[Darth_Versity]

The wolfs bite tore through a patch of armor, but luckily the only damage to skin was a slight bit of bruising. Dropping the sling and pulling out a sword and dagger, Theakalla slashed at the two beasts in front of her.

Short Sword vs G1 [roll0], Damage [roll1]
Dagger vs G3 [roll2], Damage [roll3]

Martial Damage [roll4], if the short sword hits add it to that, if not the dagger.

[Darth_Versity]

I'll use lucky to reroll the dagger. I also forgot it has a +4 damage bonus, so the damage is 8.

[roll0]

Thats better, should kill both with that. If it does i'll move to J10
(Note, the following only happens if both wolves are dead.)

With the two beasts down the halfling turns to see Ridley surrounded. "Damn it, why am I so damn nice?" She decides to head over and offer a hand against the big black beast, despite every instinct telling her to run.

[Felhammer]

A swift sword thrust up one wolf's jaw and a dagger to the eye of the other makes quick work of gray wolves.

[Henry the 57th]

The count nudges his horse to move slightly so he can avoid hitting his companion, then unleashes the now familiar beam of cold against the white wolf remaining.

Ray of Frost: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Felhammer]

The frigid beam rockets across the battlefield and flash freezes the last remaining white wolf.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Seeing that only one wolf remains, Gorsomm strides over to it axes swinging.

[roll0] [roll1]
[roll2] [roll3]

[Felhammer]

With a mighty wing to the beast's rib cage and another to it's spine, Gorsomm slays the Black Wolf with ease.

As Gorsomm finishes his deadly execution, the High Elf stands up and begins to slowly clap, "Good. Good. You are quite a bit stronger than mister Petrov indicated. I'm quite impressed. Allow me to re-introduce myself, I am Henreik Von Bach, leader of the freedom fighters known as the Black Desperados. Though you may have heard scurrilous rumors of our band of merry men, I assure you this - we are the good guys. We seek to bring justice and peace back to the Frontier. To end Boris' draconian laws and dastardly high taxes. To secure our borders and beat back the heathen."

[Darth_Versity]

"But not to bring mithril into my pocket. Is that what your saying?" asked the disgruntled Halfling.

[Henry the 57th]

"I am Count Hynius von Etera. May I ask what the reason was for the sob story? If the wolves were yours, you could have just unleashed them and skipped that. If they were not, why reveal yourself now?"

[Servbot]

Ridley

Sense Motive: Is this guy for real? Does he believe in himself or what? [roll0] + [roll1]

Ridley does not even know the meaning of non-plussed.

"You've got another thin' comin' if y'expect me to give a troglodyte's arse 'bout y'r li'l band," she says, suitably unimpressed. "Don't figure y'r gonna let us be on our way and stop botherin' us, righ'?"

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla walks over and slaps Ridley on the leg. "See girly. I bet your glad I got your gold back from that lying creep now."

[Henry the 57th]

The count's horse walks over and he smirks a bit to Ridley. " I told you it was a con."

[Darth_Versity]

Looking above the horse she continues "Don't you be getting all high and mighty. You complained when I got your money back as well."

She sighed and shrugged. "Next time i'll take everything he has on him, not just you lots gold."

[Henry the 57th]

The count looks right back down. "No, I didn't."

[Felhammer]

"M-mi-Mithril...? You desire mithril...? Ha! Yes the map. The story I told you earlier is indeed mostly truthful. You see after the Battle of Vadipole, Prince Boris was forced to abandon most of his territory on this side of the Zern River. However, many miners still cart their hauls down the mountains and over land, to avoid the high taxes in Zerna. Having realized this, the Sheriff of Zerna began sending parties of thugs into the wilderness on this side of the Zern whose goal was to forcibly take unsuspecting miners' hauls. In the story, a miner hid his cart with an invisibility spell. This is indeed factual. Though no one knows where it is exactly, it should be in this general area."

The High Elf then looks at each of you and continues, "My magical necklace gives me the power to control wolves. I use them as scouts, mostly. However, when Petrov sent me a messenger hawk, informing me that 4 strapping men and women would be trekking off to find the invisible mithril, I knew you were the kind of people I needed for my band of men. You are strong-willed, quick thinking and physically powerful. I will give you each a hundred Crowns to aid my cause and a share of all the taxes we liberate from the greedy tax collectors."

Ridley gets the distinct impression that this man is telling the truth, or at least believes every word he is saying.

[Henry the 57th]

"Magic necklace, eh?" says the count, gears in his head whirring. "Wherever did you get it?"

[Darth_Versity]

"Your necklace controls wolves you say..." the halfling begins eyeing the jewelry greedily.

[Felhammer]

The High Elf straightens his tunic as he says, "The necklace was given to me by Chieftess Gobek of the Willowwood Tribe. The Centaurs have many such magical items, for their's is a culture of living as one with the wilderness."

[Henry the 57th]

"May I see it? I am scholar of the magical arts, after all."

[Felhammer]

The man grasps a vine-like chain around his neck and hoists up a small wooden pendant, carved in the shape of a stylized wolf skull. "This is one of my most treasured items, not just for its magical power but for its sentimental value."


It looks kind of like this but imagine a bit more detail in the carving.

http://img2.etsystatic.com/008/0/6753573/il_fullxfull.403726942_67pb.jpg

[Henry the 57th]

"May I hold it for a minute? I'd like to read those runes."

Persuade: [roll0] + [roll1]

[Felhammer]

He looks a bit tentative but relents. The pendant is heavier than it looks, obviously made out of a very dense wood. The runes on top glow a dark forest green. You do not recognize the script but can tell the item is quite powerful in nature.

[Henry the 57th]

The count frown as he invokes his magic to try and assist him in deciphering the runes.

I cast Read Magic on myself.

[Felhammer]

The runes say...

Wolves are your friends/Woodlands are their home/Wondrous is the power you wield/Woeful is your destiny/Wolf Master are you now.

[Henry the 57th]

The count frowns and tilts his head a bit as he reads, before looking back up at the elf. "Interesting. Are you aware of what these mean?"

[Felhammer]

The man frowns, "I am indeed... But I do not believe in predestination. I plan on proving the pendant wrong."

[Henry the 57th]

The count smiles and nods. "Neither do I, my good elf. Neither do I." The count's expression grows more serious and he switches to the elvish language, in hopes of aiding in his argument with their shared race. "As you are no doubt aware, I am a wizard. I believe, from what I can see here, that I could make better use of this pendant than you. Might I ask... might I ask to borrow it from you, for a time. I give you my word as an elf that I would give it the best of care."

Persuasion: [roll0] + [roll1]

[Felhammer]

The High Elf replies in elvish, "You can borrow the pendant, if you help me in exchange. There is a small contingent of soldiers moving south along the Zern River. With them is one of my allies, a Human woman named Maria Ivanovna. She will be instrumental in my war efforts against the crown. Liberate her from her captors and return to me here. Then - and only then - will I allow you to borrow my Pendant. Since it, like my ally, is necessary for my war efforts, I shall loan it to you until the first day of Autumn. Do we have a deal?"




Note, there are 204 days in the year. The year is divided into four seasons, each comprised of 51 days. The 26th day of each season is the equinox/solstice.

The Vestnik (portal) that brought you here, only works a few days before and a few days after the solstice/equinox. As luck would have it, today is the Summer Solstice. Thus, if you free the woman today, then you would be in possession of the Pendant for 25 days before the High Elf would expect it returned to him.

[Henry the 57th]

The count relates the deal as best he can in Common for the rest of the party, along with the power of the amulet. "Does this sound fair to you? Because I'm going to accept unless someone can tell me a good reason I shouldn't."

[Servbot]

Ridley

"How's this one: Cache of mithril." Ridley does not look at all pleased to meddle in the affairs of the realm. Honestly, she just wants to make a living, not turn into some sort of freedom fighter extra-ordinaire, fighting off the evils of government every now and again.

She hasn't even been around long enough to really decide the current governance is terrible or outright evil, deserving of a place among the venerated dead.

[Darth_Versity]

"Hmm. I guess I don't mind, so long as you do something for me."

She then turn to the other elf. "And you said we'd get a share of any taxes liberated. What sort of share are we talking about here?"

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

"While I certainly appreciate your stated plight, sending wolves to 'test' us doesn't exactly endear you to me. How do we know your other statements are not as deceitful as the premise under which you met us here?"

Gorsomm relaxes a bit, falling into his usual absentminded habits. "I think Ridley has the right idea. Let's focus on the mithril mission and get our feel for this land we just to."

[Felhammer]

The High Elf looks at Gorsomm, "You were never in any danger, I would have prevented them from killing you. I was merely trying to assess your relative strength in an unknown environment. You, in particular, were very impressive."

He then turns his attention to the Halfling, "We take the taxes and divide it in half. Half goes to the war effort, the other half is broken down into shares. Every member of the band gets one share guaranteed. If you are a group leader or possess important skills, you receive an extra share. If you participated in the attack that acquired the taxes, then you get an extra share. Once the total number of shares have been determined, we divide the half of the treasure and hand it out to the men. The last haul we captured, saw one share worth one hundred Crowns. It is quite equitable and profitable."

[Servbot]

Ridley

The cleric eyes the proceedings with disapproval. She holds her arms folded before her chest, and occasionally glares at one of the other party members, urging them to wrap up this talk and hit the road, Jack. Of all things Ridley is, she is not a champion of justice. Death is impartial, not heavily biased to those who do "good" and those who do "evil"--for as far as such a general distinction can be made between peoples.

[Henry the 57th]

The count hands back the charm. "Thank you, but I must decline your offer for the moment. I apologize. Perhaps we will have another opportunity in the future."

[Felhammer]

The High Elf looks disappointed but respects your decision, "If that is what you desire... At least let me give you," he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small parchment envelope, "This. It is an envelope of sending. Write your message on a piece of paper, seal it in the envelope and tell it who you want to receive the message. The envelope will turn into a hawk and fly off to that person. Now," The Elf turns around and begins to walk away, "Until we meet again Count Hynius von Etera."

[Henry the 57th]

"You know, you never gave me your name. Your real name, I mean."

[Felhammer]

The Bandit Leader waves his hand in an odd gesture but continues to walk away.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm shrugs and looks at Ridley, "Now where to fearless leader?"

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley is considerably pleased they declined the offer, though a bit confused about the entire pendant thing. Did he not need it back? Either way!

"I d'no about 'fearless', but I guess leader sounds right. Well, now we narrow down th'location a'that cache of mithril." She takes out the map, and leads the party down towards their destination! Or presumably their destination. Ridley isn't sure how accurate this map is.

[Henry the 57th]

Denied his chance to claim a powerful magic item for a bargain price, the count simply sulks on his horse as the party goes along, saying nothing.

[Felhammer]

The party once again treks off for adventure. You head south for a few more miles until you find yourselves in a lightly wooded meadow, replete with chest high grass and blooming yellow flowers. The ground is damp and slightly muddy. You have no idea where the cache of invisible mithril is exactly but you believe it to be in this general area. The group spreads out and attempts to locate the treasure trove.

Everyone roll a pertinent ability/skill check to help locate the invisible treasure. I reward creativity and ingenuity. :smallsmile:

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley directs the allies to split up in parties of two and get to searching. After all, it's best not to be ambushed alone, and four people take twice as long to search the entire area!

She instructs Gorsomm to accompany the elf, while the halfling goes with her: At least Gorsomm is able to withstand a hit. And this way, she can keep an eye on the halfling.

So saying, Ridley's strategy isn't really one of manual searching. Instead, the girl attempts to recall one of many tenets of the Deathdirge, reciting various prayers in hopes that the Lady Morabog shall show her the light.

Or the mithril, as it were.

Failing that, she sets about manual search by groping around in suspicious areas.

Recall lore (religion), advantage due to my class feature, and it's a trained skill:
[roll0] + [roll1] = 19

Failing that, I'll spot:
[roll2] + [roll3]
With a sense motive for areas that seem promising:
[roll4] + [roll5]

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla climbs up on the horse to speak to the Count.

"Hey, Wizard McFancy-Pants, can't you find the cart by detecting the magic of the invisibility spell?"

She then lowers her voice and pulls out the ring she got earlier. "And can you tell me what this does?"

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Army material indeed. Gorsomm shakes his head over having to put up with the 'lord', Suppose it's hard to blame Ridley for not wanting to go with him.

Looking at Hynius, "Unless you can see invisible, we should look for clues in the ground. Indentations, tracks, whatever."

Looking for wagon tracks in the mud, places that look like there's something heavy sitting on the ground (indents, etc), and drag marks, footprints, etc.

No skills are relevant (I've ditched survival, just haven't updated my sheet yet pending the Feat answer).

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]

Pretty much just putting a bunch of these here, use any, all or none as appropriate.

[Henry the 57th]

The count looks at the little passenger on his horse. He lowers his voice. "I can... If you agree to owe me a favor later."

[Darth_Versity]

"Hmm. So long as its in proportion to what I want."

[Henry the 57th]

"Of course."

I cast Read Magic and Detect Magic on myself and take a good hard look at the ring.

After that, assuming negotiating with the spirits didn't work, for whatever reason, I use the Detect Magic I still have up to try and find the mithril by detecting the invisibility spell.

[Felhammer]

Gorsomm spots a large depression in the grass but, after walking up, he sees that it is just a mutilated elk corpse. The Count finds a minor nature spirit in a nearby stream. Though he does not speak the spirit's language, it seems to suggest what the Count is searching for is to the west. Meanwhile, the Cleric prays to Moragog in an attempt to find guidance. Ridley spots a shooting star fall to the north.

Good job everyone! You're honing in on it! Another round of skill checks but this time you have to use a different skill.

[Henry the 57th]

The count attempts to intuit the direction of the treasure from the behavior of the spirit.

Sense Motive: [roll0] + [roll1]

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm continues searching for clues to the invisible mithril. "So, Hynius, you got anything? If you're hungry, there's an elk carcass over there."

Gorsomm starts picking up handfuls of mud and dirt, throwing bits all along where he's searching to see if any hits an invisible motherload.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

Once again, take any or all as needed.

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla decides on a slightly different tactic. She searches for several small stones and one at.a time loads them in her sling and launches them off between the trees. She watches each one sail away before sending another in a different direction. If on comes in contact with an invisible wagon, she'll know about it.

Attack roll [roll0]

[Henry the 57th]

The count hands the ring back to the halfling. "It has no benefits that I can detect, and it may have some minor side effects. The text reads, "Five of Eight" in the old Dwarven tongue."

[Darth_Versity]

She snatches the ring back and begins looking it over for damage. "So what does that mean? There's 8 of them I assume. Maybe if I find them all something will happen.

[Henry the 57th]

"Perhaps. Now then, it's time for you to be getting off my horse. And don't forget our deal."

[Darth_Versity]

"Fine, fine." she hops down and begins to collect her stones to sling around the area. "So long as its nothing to taxing."

[Servbot]

Ridley

The cleric goes for the tried and true method of groping around blindly until she touches upon something.

Search check: [roll0]

[Felhammer]

The Count beseeches the spirit for aid. Though it is bound to the stream, it indicates that a will-o-wisp hover around the cache. Theakalla slings rocks at random locations and Gorsomm throws mud. After a few minutes of such activities, a sling races by a will-o-wisp, and mud covers it. Though neither spotted it, Ridley happened to be looking in the direction. As she walks up to investigate, she trips over something... Invisible!

Suddenly, out of a hidden hole in the ground, pops up a Kobold. Bearing a mighty Pick-Axe he yells in broken koromyian, "Get way frum Yoweth ithdi Werilachekan Qyhoathaczil's property, u filthy HASTRAS!"

[Henry the 57th]

The count looks down at the little creature with a smirk on his face. "Or else what? In case you hadn't noticed, there are four of us and only one of you."

Intimidate: [roll0] + [roll1]

[Felhammer]

The Kobold cries in terror and runs back down his hole.

[Henry the 57th]

The count smiles. "That's what I thought. Come on, we've got treasure to loot." He starts examining the invisible object, looking for an opening.

[Felhammer]

The count gropes around blindly, eventually feeling the edge of a sturdy, wooden cart. The Mithril is practically overflowing. You grasp a ball-sized chunk of the oar and pull it towards you. The shimmering, silver-black metal materializes as if from thin air. Due to your magical training, you believe if you kicked the cart, it would probably materialize.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

"Oh good, because kobolds are never known to travel in large groups. I'm sure scaring it away to go get others is a perfect plan."

Gorsomm sighs and draws his battleaxes, scanning the area (with particular attention to the hole) for signs of trouble.

[Henry the 57th]

The count kicks the cart before looking back at the man. "Unlikely in this case. Kobolds don't usually refer to property as belonging to themselves, but their group. This one seemed to be more individualistic than most." The count looks at the mithril. But just in case... He adds the mithril he's holding to his bag, then hops back on the horse and retreats a bit, looking at the hole and cart.

[Darth_Versity]

"Sorry, but sod kobolds." she reaches up and feels around till her fingers close around a lump of the cold metal. "This is much more interesting."

She stares, mesmerised by the light reflecting off of it. "I could buy a small town with just this piece."

[Henry the 57th]

The count decides to stay back, just in case, but can hardly afford to miss out on the mithril bounty. He uses a spell to form a spectral hand, and sends it to harvest mirthril from the cart.

Casting mage hand and using it to empty the cart of mithril from a safe distance.

[Servbot]

Ridley

... is no expert, but she watches the looting with some confusion.

"We've a cart, we've a horse, why aren't we having the horse pull the cart?!" Ridley glares in the direction of the count and halfling only momentarily, before eyeing the hole.

She doesn't like things that sneak around. So Ridley approaches Gorsomm, grabbing her own axe as well.

"S'trouble, aye? Well, 'f any a'those kobolds pop their pretty li'l heads out, we kill 'em, right." It's not a question.

[Darth_Versity]

"I don't see how that horse will pull that cart. Not as heavy as it is with all the mithril. We'll each have to carry some to lighten the load for the poor beast."

She considers the situation for a minute. "Either that, or I tie some extra rope to the cart and we all pull. At least that way, if we get attacked we can just let go of the rope and not be weighed down."

[Henry the 57th]

The count looks down at his horse for a moment, thinking. He whispers in its ear. "I'm sorry about this humiliation, but I see little alternative."

He sits up straight to face the others. "Alright. If someone can fix that cart up a bit I think my horse can pull it."

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

As the others work on the cart, Gorsomm maintains his lookout.

[Felhammer]

After ten minutes of working, you manage to hitch the cart to the horse. There is no sign of the Kobold or any would-be companions.

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla continues fitting more ropes to the cart. Eventually she has 4 more pulleys available, one for each of them.

"As degrading as it is, I think we may have to help out. That's a lot of weight for one horse."

[Felhammer]

Still no sign of the kobold. You're beginning to think he was either really scared or alone...

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

"Here's what I recommend. Theakalla, as the smallest, should sit on the cart and watch behind us. His highness there can be sure to watch ahead of us from his horse. Ridley and I will focus on pulling. Especially with this much valuable material, we need to make sure we are not taken by surprise."

[Henry the 57th]

"I agree with this plan." the count says, refraining from adding that it's because he has no interest in walking.

[Servbot]

Ridley

The cleric nods her consent. "No fault with th'plan far as I can see. Best we be on our way quick, I don't trust th'Kobold we saw any one bit." So saying, Ridley takes one of the ropes and signals they should move. Immediately.

[Felhammer]

You make haste for the north, along the Zern River, hoping to locate the same kindly old fisherman who helped you ford the river earlier today. As you make your way, Theakalla notices many shadowy movements out of the corner of her eye. Suddenly, Ridley steps upon a small wooden plate. With great ease, the plate depresses into the ground... BOOOOOOM! Some kind of explosion! Everyone is caught off guard. A thick black smoke blankets the area, obscuring everything around the four of you. You hear whispers and clicks, as well as seeing obscured figures dart about just outside the smoke cloud. You look around and see that the cart's axle has been damaged. Though the cart is still usable, it will be at a hobbling pace at best.

The Map has been updated. No enemies are visible because you cannot locate them accurately enough from inside the cloud.

[Henry the 57th]

The count summons his magic to shield himself.

Casting Mage Armor on myself.

[Darth_Versity]

"What the..." Theakalla awoke with a start. She had just rested her eyes for a moment while on the back of the wagon and then an explosion jolted them open again.

"Those bloody kobolds!" she jumped down and surveyed the situation. "If I get my hands round one of their scaly little necks... In fact, I might at that. Get the cart moving, I'll deal with these"

And with that she pulled her weapons and disappeared into the smoke.

Sneak [roll0]+[roll1]+4=22

[Servbot]

Ridley

The cleric lets loose a string of curses that would leave even the most potty-mouthed sailor agape for words. When she's collected herself, she peers at the smoke surrounding them, and casts a minor ward against danger.

Ridley casts resistance on herself.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

"Knew there'd be trouble." Gorsomm drops the rope and draws his axes while stepping forward out of the smoke to look around.

Not sure how close we're keeping to the turn order right now, but I moved my G to L8.

[Felhammer]

Gorsomm rushes head long out of the smoke and suddenly sees the entirety of the force that has been amassed against them. Four kobolds wielding spears stand read to jab and poke all, five archers stand with arrows nocked, while a single, heavily armored leader stands out front. The moment the leader sees the Fighter, he yells, "You have stolen from Yoweth ithdi Werilachekan Qyhoathaczil! He demands his horde of precious metals back or lest my companions and I are forced to slay you and your filthy, thieving band of hastras!"

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm looks around at the assembled kobolds, "Like hell. Ridley, kobold leader straight ahead, archers and others around."

With that, he moves up and attacks.

Moved up to K7.

[roll0] [roll1]
[roll2] [roll3]

Main Hand is aimed at K1.
If that kills K1, Off Hand is aimed at DS [roll4]
If K1 is alive after the Main Hand, Off Hand will target is as well, no DD use.

[Felhammer]

With one of the kobolds brutally slaughtered by the Fighter, the Kobolds move in to squash the enemy! Three run up into melee and stab poor Gor with their pointy sticks.

Kobolds have disadvantage in the sun.

Kobold 2: A - [roll0] or [roll1]. D - [roll2]
Kobold 3: A - [roll3] or [roll4]. D - [roll5]
Kobold 5: A - [roll6] or [roll7]. D - [roll8]

[Felhammer]

Three archers then line up shots and let their arrows fly towards the Fighter. Meanwhile two more archers fire shots into the cloud randomly; one shot bounces off a chunk of mithril, while another penetrates the cart.



Kobold Archer 3: A - [roll0] or [roll1]. D - [roll2]
Kobold Archer 4: A - [roll3] or [roll4]. D - [roll5]
Kobold Archer 5: A - [roll6] or [roll7]. D - [roll8]

[Felhammer]

The Dragon Shield hoists his sword high up into the air and screams, "MITHRIL! NOW!" Then slams the weapon into Gor.


Dragon Shield: A - [roll0] or [roll1]. D - [roll2]

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla follows the sounds of combat and voices and bursts of the smoke. Two Kobolds stand before her and she cuts them both down before looking at the leader and pointing her sword at him.

"Wrong you little bugger, our Mithril!"

Move to M8
Kobold 2, Atk: [roll0] or [roll1], Dmg: [roll2] *Crit* 13, sorry, thats wrong its 9
Kobold 4, Atk: [roll3] or [roll4], Dmg: [roll5]

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley also advances! She isn't about to let some grubby Kobolds attack them like that! Well, technically they might've been stealing, but honestly, there's more palatable methods to go about this!

"I don' s'pose you're int'rested in a solution that leaves BOTH of us happy, eh?!" she calls, advancing into the field and drawing upon the might of her Goddess to sap the life essence of all that surrounds her! ... Well, it's TRUE that diplomacy and aggression don't go hand in hand, but anyone who claims that has never understood the diplomatic advantage of having the upper hand in battle.

Ridley moves to E-11, escaping the smoke!
She then uses Slay the Living to damage everything within 25ft (5 squares); A1, A3, A5 and K3.
They must make a Fort save against my Spellsave DC, or suffer [roll0] necrotic damage; Half if they save.

[Felhammer]

The two Battle Maidens of the group make quick work of over half the Kobolds assembled on the Battlefield. The Dragon Shield lets slip a mournful wail.

[Henry the 57th]

The count hops down off his horse and points his fingers at the dragon shield. He unleashes the now familiar spell.

Ray of Frost: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Felhammer]

Seeing that his companions have been slain and only just missing the assault from the Count, the Dragon Shield Kobold screeches loudly, then tosses up several balls into the sky. They explode with a brilliant, eye-hurting light. The effect lingers long enough to provide ample cover for the Kobolds to escape for when the light fades, the kobolds are gone.

It is six PM at night, your cart is damaged. If you gather supplies from the meadow, you will be able to repair it (enough for the journey, at least). However, the repairs will take two hours to complete. That will put you into the evening, which is when the fisherman mentioned he'd be heading home for the night (thus no fording the river today). If you do not exact repairs, then you should make it up to where the Fisherman was plying his trade before he leaves, however, your cart will slow your advance down to the point where you could become easy prey for more kobolds, or anything else that lives out here.

So, the choice is - risk traveling with the busted cart knowing you will not be able to flee enemies or exact repairs and ready yourselves for camping across the river from Zerna.

[Darth_Versity]

The cold evening wind cuts through the trees as Theakalla climbs on top of the cart.

"Ok, I have a plan. You guys make repairs, i'll head out alone to the river with some coin. I'll use it to convince him to stay later than usual. Meanwhile, you fix up the cart and get moving. It means you'll be one down if attacked, but we won't get stranded here for another assault."

She stares at her fellows, waiting for a decision.

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley is confused!

"'Him'? The river? Stay out later than usual? Wbuh?"

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla shakes her head, reminding herself that not everyone is as quick as she is when it comes to thinking.

"Ok princess, let me break it down for you. The fisherman we had help us cross the river earlier will be heading home soon. We will need his help to get our shipment across the river or risk losing the cart in the waters."

She pointed to the recent damage to emphasise her next point "Now with the cart in its current condition, we won't make it to him. And if we stop to repair it, we won't make it to him either. That would leave us at the mercy of any one who finds us, whether they be kobolds or brigands."

"Now I'm willing to risk myself out there alone." and she pointed to the path ahead "Risking life and limb against wolves and kobolds to stop the fisherman before he heads off. Thus providing you three with the chance to make repairs and catch up."

She finally looks at the cleric, hands on her hips. "Any questions?"

[Henry the 57th]

"Works for me." the count says.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

"Try not to get killed."

[Felhammer]

Theakalla dashes off up the river bank, keeping an eye out for any possible enemies. Meanwhile, the others forage for supplies to repair the cart.


Theakalla You spy several ravens following you out of the corner of your eye but they fly off every time you try to get a good look at them. As you make hit the half-way point of your journey, a sizable river boat floats down the river. One of the crew spot you before you can duck away. The burly human with a thick beard and a concerned face calls out, "Hail, you be friend or foe lil' halflin'? One of the men on the roof of the main compartment turns around, he is a burly looking Half-Orc. His hands are chained together tightly enough to prevent him from doing anything save for manning an ore.

Picture of the riverboat: Not the steam-powered ship, the small raft-like boat.

http://www.alincolnlearning.us/riverboat.jpg




OthersIt takes nearly a half-hour to find the supplies you will need to fix the cart. As you affect repairs, a small Gnome, wearing a green toga, a monocle and over-sized metal boots while leading along a stubborn donkey chances upon you. Gor sees him almost immediately and makes for his axes. The gentle gnome raises his hand in surrender, "I am but a Gnome from Abera, come to trade Gnomish wares in the lands you invade... Or rather, newcomers have found yourselves in. I seek free passage down the river that you call Zern to the newcomer's fishing village of Rybsk.' The gnome retrieves a pipe from his toga and lights it. He takes several deep puffs and blows out pipe-shaped clouds of smoke.

[Darth_Versity]

Taking a quick look around in case of the need to make a swift exit, Theakalla turned to the one that spoke.

"That depends good sir, on who it is you consider your friends and your foes. Generally though I am neither till someone chooses to make me one." she gives the a sly smile and turns her head to the side in the most disarming pose she can muster.

Persuade [roll0]+[roll1]+3=11, oh dear...

[Felhammer]

T The man laughs, "I always did like Halflings! You need a lift?"

[Darth_Versity]

"I am tempted, but I'm afraid I have a prior engagement to attend and will shortly be turning away from the river." she gives a slight nod and continues on her way. "Good day to you."

Bluff [roll0]+[roll1]+3=22

That's better! :smallamused:

[Felhammer]

T Just as you are dashing off, a well groomed man wearing ornate clothing walks out of the cabin. He has slicked back black hair, a thin mustache and steel blue eyes. His ornate, silken tunic befits a noble or a man of great import. He looks over in your direction and yells, "I am the Sheriff of Zerna! I demand to know what you are doing on that side of the river!"

[Darth_Versity]

She stopped instantly and gave a respectful bow "Apologies' my lord, I did not know you were there. My companions and I were fishing on the other side when spied a white stag across the river from us. Beautiful it was, with golden antlers that were taller than me." she stretched her hands out wide to emphasise her point.

"We were desperate to find a way across to it. A white stag after all, how often would you have a chance to hunt such a beast? So we headed down stream till we found a small fishing boat that could help us cross. Unfortunately, after a full day ranging, the only game we found were the wolves that beset us. The stag it seemed, had escaped." her head shook in disappointment.

"We were heading back, when my friends horse went lame. We were loathe to put the beast down, as it is still young and could recover with time. So instead I volunteered to find the fishing boat and ask them to head up to us instead, else we would not make it to them before dark and be left at the mercy of more carnivorous beasts."

That, is one hell of a bluff. Lets hope it works.

[roll0]+[roll1]+3=17, about average, hopefully it will do.

[Felhammer]

T The Sheriff looks shocked, "White stags have not been seen in this area for many years. It is surly a prize worthy of a champion hunter. I will have to try my luck when next I get a chance. As for your horse, send him to the Blackmare Stables outside of Zerna. I have many a good man working for me there. They should be able to mend your horse, if it is possible. I would aid you but I am on a quest of the utmost importance. We captured a member of the Black Desperados, who claims that there is a group of miners who are attempting to illegally smuggle mithril into Evagrad. We are headed south to apprehend the criminals and seize their assets. I pray you do not run into these brigands, they are rumored to be armed and dangerous."

The Sheriff gives the signal to the chained Half-Orc, who immediately begins to push the boat down river.

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla looks at the sheriff quizzically and asks "An armed group with mithril? But my lord, you should have already passed them. We saw such a group this morning on the opposite bank, they were heading north. We were focused on the hunt and would have probably dismissed them as simple traders if not for their company. One of the guards was a Bugbear, and a large one at that. Easily three times my height and with a sword, almost as tall as he, strapped to his back."

She held her chin a moment, as if trying to remember the details. "The leader was a woman, half elf I believe, but her ears had only the slightest hint of a an elfs shape, so possibly she has more human in her. Her skin was much darker than is usual, as if she was from the far south. The strangest thing was the tattoos of arcane design on her arms and face. I knew she was in charge as she barked orders at the others and none questioned her."

"We stopped a moment to watch this odd crew pass by, and that's when the edge of the sheet on their wagon blew up and revealed the unrefined metal beneath. Even in its raw state it shined with a silvery light in the sun. The group quickly re-tied the sheet and stared us down till we headed on our way."

She points north, showing their direction "At the rate they were going, I would imagine they'd already be at the city. But now you know who to look for, such a group should not be so hard to find."

Hoping you'll give advantage for this one, so i'll put a second D20 after the roll.

Bluff (please be good, please be good!) [roll0]+[roll1]+3=19 or 25 with advantage. :smallbiggrin:
In case of Advantage [roll2]

[Felhammer]

T The Sheriff nods at the Halfling with the look of joy, "You have done a great service for the Principality, you have my thanks. In fact," the man reaches into his pocket and retrieves a diminutive wooden coin, "Give this to Fredrik at the Blackmare Stables, he will know what it means." The Sheriff tosses the coin to you, which you nimbly grasp. "I bid you farewell mistress Halfling, may your tomorrow be more prosperous than your yesterday."

The Half-Orc wheels the boat around and unfurls a small sail. The Sheriff and his men travel upstream until they are out of sight.

[Darth_Versity]

"And to you also my lord." she called back. She continued up river till the barge was out of sight and then turned back the way she had come. The lie had bought them time, nothing more. They would now need a new method of getting the mithril back and it was unlikely they would make it over the river this evening.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Keeping his hands on his axes, Gorsomm looks suspiciously at the gnome. "Funny way of asking for a favor, making accusations as the first thing you do. Why should we offer you passage with us?"

[Felhammer]

Others The Gnome smiles, "Not with, away from, good sir. I don't want any trouble. Been accosted by you newcomers before. Thought it best to announce my presence and then be on my way, and all that."

[Henry the 57th]

"What sort of wares are you seeking to trade, my good gnome?" the count asks, genuinely curious. "Anything of a magical nature?"

[Felhammer]

"I have three magical items with me. First up is my bottle of silver sheen, which when coated on your weapon, allows you to hurt Werewolves. Good for the winter time, when they abound out in the wilds. Next up is my gentleman's laurel wreath that can - upon command - change to any color of the rainbow. Good for impressing that special lass or lad, I'd wager. My third, and sadly, final item is this," the Gnome retrieves a rusty, old axe from his satchel. "This here is Number Five, which is an ancient and magical axe wielded by Gaurson the Blackhanded Tyrant. In the days of yore, it is said an outsider came to this land with a companion named Thokkada the Witchreaver. Together they created a sprawling empire that dominated Thri-Kreen, Gnome and Centaur alike."

"It is said these two utilized pairs of magic items. Gaurson wielded eight axes, while Thokkada wore eight rings. Each pair was numbered one through eight and possessed equal but opposite opposite effects. Number Five Axe, for example, gave the wielder great brute strength, while Number Five Ring gave the bearer the power to resist great damage. Both items in the pair must be in close proximity for the magic to work."

The Gnome takes a few puffs of his pipe, "Now you see, Gaurson ruled in every bit the fashion you would imagine. He was a brutal lord who, essentially, enslaved all the native peoples of Verazemya. His rule lasted nearly two hundred years before a great army of slaves rose up and toppled him and his companion-queen."

"It is said, Gaurson's dying breath was that he cursed our peoples (Gnomes, Centaurs and Thri-Kreen) and prophesied the coming of his spiritual successor, who would arrive on the Summer Solstice of this very year."

The Gnomes inhales a few puffs deeply, and releases piped-shaped smoke clouds (a trick he seems very fond of), "This is why the Centaurs have been so moody as of late. They believe Gaurson's literal word and are out for blood. They want to slay all newcomers that arrived today. Me? I think it's all a bit of hog-wallop, really. Still, it makes for a nice story."

The Gnome pulls drinks heartily from a waterskin, "They say the Gaurson's "Successor" will wield two axes (for he could never choose just one instrument of destruction), that he will be a skilled soldier and that he will have slain wolves before nightfall on the solstice."

"As for Thokkada's "Successor", she will wield a sling, possess "deft fingers" and will have chanced upon one of the eight rings before nightfall on the solstice."

The Gnome laughs for a good long while before continuing, "That is a pretty specific prophesy, would you not say? Centaurs and their augers. I tell ya, if I had a wreath for every time a Centaur prophesy didn't come to pass, I'd have, about, twenty of 'em!"

[Henry the 57th]

"Ah." says the count, his keen mind immediately making the connections, although it isn't particularly difficult. The name, the weapons, the rings... It all fits. It might be interesting to see where this is going.

"And how much are you asking for the ax?" he asks.

[Felhammer]

The Gnome chuckles, "Ah, I see you have a keen mind, one that enjoys a good tale and a fine piece of merchandise. I will take thirty of Prince Boris' Crowns and something of your's that holds great sentimental value to you, preferably one that has a story connected to it."

[Henry the 57th]

"Make it twenty, and you have a deal."

Persuade: [roll0]

Edit: Forgot my skill die, rolled in OOC. Got a 6, so the total is 24.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm seems content to let the count deal with the gnome. What a bunch of poppycock.

[Felhammer]

20 Crowns it is but there better be a great story for the sentimental item.

[Henry the 57th]

"Of course, my good fellow." the count smiles, pulling his dagger out of its sheath. "This is the prize I took on my very first adventure. Treasures belonging to my house had gone missing, and my father sent me to investigate. After a long hunt, traced the thief to a small cave in the woods. Little did I know that it was not one thief, but many. Against a pack of goblins I fought, other only a simply soldier of my house to protect me. When she fell, I fled deep into the goblins' lair, weapon less and out of spells. I found a moldy pile of bones, and a single old, discarded dagger. That night, I crept through the lair of the monsters, and slit their drunk throats one by one. Then, I retrieved the treasures of my house and fled."

[Felhammer]

The Gnome is giddy with delight, "A fine story indeed!" He quickly hands over the axe and happily accepts the Crowns and dagger. He delicately places the dagger into his satchel, gives you a nod and says, "Well, I shall be off then."

As the Gnome wanders off, the three of you finish your repairs on the cart. The sun hangs low in the horizon, its amber-red glow lighting the sky aflame. Your Halfling companion hurriedly rushes into the clearing...

[Henry the 57th]

The count carefully puts away the axe in his bag, intending to examine it and the ring together at a later time. Several minutes after the count is sure the gnome is long gone, he chuckles at how easily the gnome fell for such a bad story. He had been worried the obvious logical flaw, that anyone fleeing the goblins would flee away from their lair, not into it, would give it away, but apparently not.

"Ah." he says as their companion returns."How did your trip go? Do we have passage?"

[Servbot]

Ridley

... had taken the time to hide behind the cart, giving the wee eyes a bit of shut-eye for her beauty sleep. Oft the ridicule of her peers, but Ridley insisted that a good nap every day did wonders for your mental acumen and sharpness.

Well, maybe not the best time to take a nap, but Gorsomm was as fearful as the Count was foppish.

And the Count is such a huge fop, why, when Ridley is allowed to modify her chapel's Book of Words, she'll draw a picture of the Count behind "fop".

"So, prophesied warrior, are ya then, Gor?" Ridley grins, emerging from her little napping spot. "Best not be bringin' ruin and wanton murder 'n all that, s'a pain t'conduct a ritual fer that many souls."

[Henry the 57th]

"He can be a prophesied warrior after I'm done experimenting with the ax and ring. Assuming I decide to give it to him at the end, of course."

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley makes a face at the count. It's kind of a ridiculing face.

"Ya sure y'can swing an axe there, elf?"

[Henry the 57th]

The count gives Ridley his best expression of elven royal condescension. It's very good. "Why would I want to hit things with a glorified sharpened stick from a foot away, risking my precious life, when I can shoot fire and lightning and ice from my fingers at a whim?"

[Servbot]

Ridley

"So hand over the axe, fop."

[Henry the 57th]

"I purchased it so I could study its magical properties in combination with the ring, monkey."

[Servbot]

Ridley

"Oh, please, you pointy-eared fops always think careful and calm study wins the day," Ridley says. "S'us monkeys who git things done, 'cus we jus' do it rather'n think about it!"

[Henry the 57th]

"I agree part of that. You monkeys always do, never think. That's why your civilization never achieves anything without a superior being directing your lives. In your case, the goddess."

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm rolls his eyes, "Oh shut up both of you. Sir Count von County here claims to be the arcane master, so let him examine the axe. I don't need it right away, the ones I have seem to work just fine." Gorsomm grins broadly at that, he then winks at Ridley, "And don't you worry about me bringing death and destruction, you're on my side right? And performing all those rituals will make you popular and ensure job security."

Gorsomm chuckles and then turns to Theakalla, "I am definitely curious to hear what you have been up to."

[Darth_Versity]

"Curious maybe. Happy? Not so much. I had a run in with the sheriff. He's looking for a group of mithril smugglers trying to enter the city without paying taxes. I convinced him we saw such a group this morning..." and she proceeds to tell the tale she spun to turn the sheriff away.

"...and then he turned back to look for them. Now I have an idea. If we get a second horse and make it lame, then take the cart to the sheriff and claim we chances upon the group on our way home. They attacked us, so we killed them and claimed the mithril ourselves. Offer to pay the correct tax and not only will he be impressed by our martial skill but happy he got his money. What do you think?"

[Henry the 57th]

"An excellent idea." says the count. "Have you seen any other horses? If not, we could always say the lame horse died in the the battle or simply died afterwords."

The count thinks for a moment. "May I see that ring again? I believe I might have a way to wring some usefulness from it."

[Darth_Versity]

She pulls the small bag with the ring in tight to her chest and stares at the elf warily. ""But its my ring. You said it had no magic so why do you care? It's not precious to you!"

[Henry the 57th]

The count explains the tale the gnome merchant told him, and pulls out the ax he acquired to demonstrate. He leaves out the part about the story he told the merchant being utterly false though.

"Now do you understand?" he asks the halfling.

[Darth_Versity]

"Well... Ok, but don't take it out of my sight." and she passes over the ring.

[Henry the 57th]

"Of course." the count says as he takes the ring and holds it next to the ax. His eyes glow with arcane power.

I hold the ring and ax together and cast Detect and Read Magic. What do I see?

[Felhammer]

The second the Halfling reveals the ring, both items called "Number Five" light up with a riot of pink and purple runes that races across each item at a bewildering speed. As the two items draw nearer and nearer, they begin to hum, softly at first but gaining in speed and intensity until... VAASHOOOOOM! The two items are held in the Elf's hands.

The magical aura being generated by the swirling mass of light is palpable, even to those who have never studied magic. The radiant glow of the two items is almost unbelievably intense, they have turned twilight to day. The brilliant shimmer is so bright that it could easily be seen for miles around. The Count feels an overwhelming urge to hold the items tight to his body - for they are HIS - yet an equally powerful urge to hand them off to his companions. The two ideas literally grate his soul as he agonizes over the decision to keep the items or give them away.

[Henry the 57th]

"Gaaaah!" the count screams in pain as his magical sight is practically blinded by the flash of what might as well be be a second sun in his hands. His horse kicks up beneath him, neighing in fright, and he tumbles off onto the ground. His instinctive rolling with the fall prevents any serious injury to his person.

"Take the damn ring back!" he screams at the halfling, throwing the jewelry at her.

"You!" he yells at Gorsomm. "Take the damn ax!" Without waiting for a response, he shoves the thing forcibly into the fighter's hands.

"Ugh..." he murmurs, cradling his aching head. Even as he does so, his elven mind is already whirring. "We need to move. Now. The gnome said the centaurs are hunting that. If that's true, they'll be on their way here even as we speak!" He hops back onto his horse.

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla cradles the ring for a moment before looking at the cart. "But the mithril... If the centaurs are coming we can't take the cart, we'll be to slow."

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm raises his eyebrows, "Well now, that was interesting. And quite a colorful story Theakalla. However, I believe Hynius is correct that we should move out now. As to the mithril, I think the best thing to do is take as much as we can, and then head back to town. There, we can find the sheriff, explain that we found it and heard rumors of centaur activity. We can make them think that centaurs dealt with the party Theakalla described but didn't make off with the entire load. We offer to pay taxes, and still end up richer than we were before. We can discuss more about the ring and axe later, but we must be discrete."

With that, Gorsomm stows the axe and then gets as much mithril as he can into his pack.

Need to know how much the axe weighs and how much mithril I can carry from there.

[Servbot]

Ridley

Ridley is agonised! "Y'bloody fop," she just grumbles, staring at the cache of mithril. For this, they murdered kobolds! For this, they paid enough Crowns to make a simple food merchant leap in joy.

Ridley sighs! She doesn't want to at all leave the cache here, but there's some sense in not wanting to engage even the centaurs. Enough battle for now.

Rather than make a mad grab for the cache, though, Ridley steps up to Gorsomm, mumbling some prayers (dissatisfied), allowing some of her deity's more benevolent powers to close Gorsomm's wounds.

Repeatedly cast cure minor wounds. Forgot to do this! Will use it as many times as necessary to full-heal Gorsomm while he ganks mithril from the cart.

[Henry the 57th]

The count hurriedly detaches his horse from the cart while using his magic to add as much mithril as he can to his own bags.

Use Mage Hand to loot the cart for as much as I can carry while loosing my horse. How much can my horse and I carry?

[Felhammer]

After grabbing as much mithril as you can, the four of you rush off towards the west. Going at a hurried pace, you arrive at the banks of the Zern River. The river is flowing fast, it will be difficult to ford on foot.

So, you have several options:

1. Ford the River here, where the water is rushing fast.
2. Go North and see if the river is any slower
3. Go South and see if the river is any slower
4. Go North to Zerna to see if you can catch a ride
5. Ridley heard mention of another village to the south, so you could try to go there.

[Servbot]

Ridley

Hands full of mithril and face the token of displeasure, Ridley eyes the others and nods down south. "Dunno 'bout you lads, but I ain't gonna cross no ri'er packed as heavy as w'are. There's 'nother village down south, and I've a mind to head there, yeah?"

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm shrugs, "At this point, one destination seems as arbitrary as any other until we learn more about this frontier. For now, I'm certainly content to follow your lead."

[Servbot]

Ridley

The cleric nods. "Aye, and way things've been goin', we run into one wacky thing 'fter another. Kobolds, freakish rebels, magic prophecies, lost gnomes an' stolen mithril, s'all nutters." She grins. "So who's want to take bets on what we'll encounter south, yeah?"

[Darth_Versity]

"Necromancer. Thats my bet. With a lot of undead." she adjusted her backpack, trying to get used to the extra weight while looking forlornly at the mithril they're leaving behind. "Well, lets go find out."

[Henry the 57th]

"My bet is on kobolds or centaurs. Both, if we're unlucky."

[Felhammer]

The four of you rush down the river bank for almost half the night, with no village in sight. You continue on, thinking it must be "just a bit further away". Thaekalla takes the lead, her keen senses proving invaluable. Gor takes up the rear, keeping an eye on his backside for any Kobolds. The rest run in the middle. As the dead of night turns the air chilly, a horde of bats flies up right in front of Gorsomm. The torrent of movement befuddles the fighter, who then trips over an outcropping and lands with a loud, sploshy thud on the muddy ground. As he gropes around in the dark, Gor quickly realizes there is some sort of semi-covered hole in the ground... Like the entrance to an underground cave of some sort.

Almost as suddenly, the four of you hear an unmistakeable blood curdling howl. The Count and the Fighter have both heard this sound before - the former in his Elvish homeland, and the latter while in the army. It is the howl of a half-starved Crimson Troll. The Halfling quickly discerns where the Troll is standing and realizes it has honed in on the group.


Map and Combat Sheet have been updated. You guys all beat the Troll in initiative.

[Darth_Versity]

With her sling already in hand, Theakalla loads a stone and begins a methodical swing while whispering to Ridley. "There's a Troll over there. Follow the shot and you'll see it."

She then gives a final check of its position before letting the stone fly, and then moving back into the tall grass.*


* "Wait! Wild Pokémon are in tall grass" :smallsmile:

OK, lets see how well this new Sneak Attack works
Isolated Strike (gives advantage)
Sneak Attack (loses advantage)
Attack [roll0], Damage [roll1]+[roll2]

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why giving up advantage for 1d6 damage is stupid! :smallfurious:

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm looks at the cave entrance and curses. Great, just what we need, something coming out of here behind us. He looks in the hole as best he can, hoping to get an idea of what, if anything, lives there.

Moving over to the Count and indicating the cave entrance, "Hynius, there's a cave entrance there. It appears to be filled with guano, probably from all those bats. We need to keep an eye on it, just in case."

With that, he moves up towards the troll a little bit and lets a javelin fly. It flies true and hits the troll with a nice solid 'thunk'.

Moved to N8, spoke to county von counterson, moved to Q10 (that should be 30' total), threw javelin. Damned disadvantage.

[roll0] [roll1]
[roll2]

[Henry the 57th]

The count nods. "Of course. But I think the troll is a more immediate priority." He points his fingers to unleash his icy ray upon the creature.

Ray of Frost: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

-10 speed.

[Servbot]

Ridley

The cleric responds with all the normalcy that can be expected of her: She blasts it with holy magic.

My favourite lance of faith! Troll either saves or takes 1d8 damage.

[Felhammer]

The Troll is struck with a Javelin, a cold spell and a radiant light spell. The Troll, as you can well imagine, does not like this. Not in the least. He lets slip a terrifying screech-like howl that could shatter windows and pierce eardrums. In the dim glow of the moon light, you can see his muscles engorge themselves, nearly doubling in size. The lumbering behemoth runs as fast as his icy feet can take him towards the nearest enemy - Gor.


PC's are up.

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Gorsomm quickly assesses the situation, "Okay, let the big guy come to us." With that, he hurls another javelin at the troll and then maneuvers to get behind some of the trickier terrain. And once again, the javelin flies true, nailing the troll in the shoulder.

[roll0]
[roll1]

Then moved 25' to M8

[Henry the 57th]

The count steers his horse away from the troll and towards the river, repeating his cold attack.

Ray of Frost: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

-10 speed.

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla jumps up from the tall grass, another stone flying from her sling.

Isolated Strike
[roll0]+4=23, [roll1]

A 19! Ah dang, one short of a crit!

[Servbot]

Ridley

The cleric retreats, and following the examples of her allies, engages the troll at range with her blinding rays of death and light. Mostly death, but visually light.

Move back and cast lance of faith. Har har troll. [roll0] damage.

[Felhammer]

The Troll screams in agony as it is assaulted from afar. It's mouth foams with rage. It can smell your blood. It wants to feast on your blood. It will have your blood! The Troll runs as fast as he can to the nearest enemy, in this case Ridley.

Meanwhile, the howling and screeching has attracted the attention of a few giant crabs, eager to devour the troll's leftovers...

[Archwizard]

Gorsomm

Great. Seeing the crabs, Gorsomm maneuvers behind the troll, attempting to deal some heavy damage with his axes. "Crabs coming from the river, and the look hungry!"

Moved up to N12.
[roll0] [roll1]
[roll2] [roll3] :smallyuk: 1d6.

[Darth_Versity]

Theakalla knew the best way to deal with the Crabs was to provide a meal in the form of a Troll. She could see it not far off and decided to do something about it. Sneaking forward she put her sling in a pocket and pulled out her swords.

Sneak [roll0]+[roll1]+4=13 (18 with advantage)

Possible Advantage from lack of light and tall grass [roll2]

[Henry the 57th]

The count looks nervously at the newly-arriving creatures. He decides to see if the stupid troll might be distracted for a few moments by an illusionary sound of a rival troll coming from behind a tree, giving his comrades the advantage.

Minor Illusion to conjure up the sound of a troll's most challenging roar from the area marked "I".

[Felhammer]

Two of the Crabs and the Troll seem to be worrying more about the sound than the combat...

[Servbot]

Ridley

The battle cleric capitalises on the situation by... simply firing off another beam of death. Honestly, best choice option! Ridley likes her axe, but who can beat beams of death and rays of agony?

Lance of faith, [roll0], targeting the troll, of course. Not moving.

[Felhammer]

Two of the crabs scuttle back into the safety of the river, while the Troll tries to hedge off potential danger by mauling the "new troll" he heard challenge him.

After Gor gets his AoO, the initiative will head back to the top.

EDIT: The Combat Sheet has been updated with all damage and regen up to the start of the Troll's turn.