[4e Gestalt]The Chosen: One Last Quest [Archive] - Giant in the Playground Forums

LimeSkeleton

2013-08-22, 09:04 PM

DM post

A strong breeze blows the smell of ash and death over the grassy fields of the Jointrock Plains, making the yellowed shoots of wild grass flow pleasantly. The sun shines with its usual uncomfortably bright rays, slowly baking the surrounding countryside as noon approaches. It would seem that it's getting hotter almost every day; won't be too long before the whole grasslands turns to desert. However, the air is quiet here, with only the slight rustling of grass stalks breaking up the nearly-hypnotic feeling of lethargic silence. A butterfly alights upon the end of a thick blade of grass, fluttering its wings lightly as it settles. Wonderfully bright blue hues decorate its wings, seeming to form an hourglass shape, marking this specimen as one of a dying breed. It pauses to investigate the grass around it, before beginning to take flight once more, the sun glinting off of it's incande-

BOOM!

An explosion shakes the landscape, shattering the calm atmosphere of the previous moments and casting four, roughly-humanoid shadows upon the yellow grass. The butterfly has just enough time to flutter its wings a final time before being crushed by a plummeting human-ish creature, which instantly ends the insect's life.

The four figures slowly rise from the soft grass covering the rolling hills, still feeling slightly disoriented. The smell of ash and death hits their olfactory organs, seemingly somewhat out-of-place in this relatively tranquil fields. Rolling hills obscure much of the horizon, but the oracle was clear.

The nearby city of Othrodon would soon be overrun by forces too great and terrible to understand; beings that would rend the very nature of reality in this area and forcibly pull it away from this plane of existence.

Rather commonplace, really.

The Oracle had mentioned something a lot more important, however: The Chosen that had headed to this city previously have all turned up dead, with a black-crystal spike lodged in their chest. This is not an ordinary occurrence. Someone, or something is somehow getting away with murdering Chosen. Understandably, the gods are pissed.

The breeze blows once more, bringing a stronger scent of ash and death, mixed with... mint? That doesn't bode well.

Setup
Alright, so the basic gist of this setup, is that all of your characters were commanded by your Divine parent to seek out the Oracle, way up in the mountains. After meeting this Oracle (A medusa, go figure), she briefed you on the basics of what was going on in Othrodon and then summarily teleported you away without much more explanation. Your characters likely at least know each other by reputation, although some of you may know each other better than that.

Minor Setting Details
The rifts in reality that have been opening up are theorized to be caused by every other plane in the standard 4e cosmology simultaneously overlapping with the material plane in the same spot, creating horribly warped monstrosities and strange environmental effects. Chosen can instinctively sense these locations and are some of the few creatures that can survive close contact with them. The beasts that merge from them can be anything from Demons to Aberrant abominations to adorable talking mice. However, the crossover and overlap tends to cause insanity.

Othrodon is a large, metropolitan city that lies next to the largest river in this area of the continent. It remains dominant over this river, giving it immense economic power and countless merchant princes. However, the metropolitan nature of the city has recently gone sour, as many of the city's various factions have turned on one another, inciting minor riots and rebellions throughout. Most blame other groups for the death of Chosen in their home.

Chambers

2013-08-22, 09:39 PM

Illgath

"Hrmm." Illgath says as he picks himself up and peels a yellow flower off his arm. "I've not known many medusa to be so abrupt..but I have also never known one who was an oracle as well." The young giant tightens his wide leather belt - actually part of a harness used for oxen - and shakes the dirt from his long tangled brown hair. "If yonder city is Ohtrodon then we may have arrived in the right place."

"Hopefully in the right time as well, before it falls to its doom." He says and shrugs one massive shoulder as he reaches up and rolls his giantsword out of the scabbard on his back. He glances around at his companions. "Are ye all well and in order?"

zingbobco000

2013-08-23, 09:27 AM

Pelon comes to with a sickening headache, "ughh what in the name of Pelor was that?" He then prays to Pelor to give him some strength to fight off this sickening headache. "Yes I'm ok," He says to his giant friend, "But what about our icy friend over there? " As he looks to his friends icy, unconscious body.

Dacia Brabant

2013-08-23, 03:34 PM

The Herald of Winter

That "icy friend" opened his eyes, casting a frigid light from behind his raven-shaped greathelm, as soon as he heard himself mentioned.

The Herald, a tall and graceful yet gaunt figure of a man beneath plate armor that seemed to be forged out of black ice, stood and glanced around at the others... but also for something that wasn't (yet) there.

"Wait for it," is all he said, his voice echoing almost from another plane of existence.

What exactly that "it" was became apparent almost immediately with a loud POP! as a glowing ball of light manifested slightly above him. The entity, if so it could be called, bobbed in the air as it hummed a strange, unearthly melody that, when listened to intently, almost sounded like a language of its own.

"Well that didn't take long. It seems even an oracle can't absolve me of his presence," he said, an echo of sarcasm in his otherwise hollow voice.

The Herald reached back and unslung his shield, emblazoned with the same raven symbol he wore on his head, and shook free a mane of white hair. For whatever reason just the sight of that shield brings feelings of protection to all who see it, but no sooner than he had slung it onto his left arm did a long, thin but impossibly sharp blade of ice spring forth from his right hand.

"Very well then, presuming all of you are prepared let us be off to meet our Fate."

Just want to make note that everyone in the party, no matter where they are, gets a +1 shield bonus to AC while my character holds a shield, per Devoted Protector Expertise. Just doing my part. :smallsmile:

Oh and in case it wasn't clear, that "light" is his sidhe ally from his theme. Yeah, he's based on an Eternal Blade/RKV I made for a 3.5e game. Back from the dead. :smallbiggrin:

zingbobco000

2013-08-23, 08:18 PM

Pelon said, I've been ready a time before you. You can tell a slight distaste in his voice between the creation of the raven queen. Not spite, but just a small amount of rivalry between him and Pelon. He then walks off waiting for the others to follow him.

LimeSkeleton

2013-08-25, 07:31 PM

DM Post

Making their way across the grasslands and over the hills previously in the horizon, the party finally comes into view of the city. Othrodon stands tall despite its recent civil disobedience troubles, its massive gates wide open directly beyond the River Thresh. Far above the walls, an airship is anchored by several thick ropes, apparently stationed by the City Guard, given the insignia on the side. Despite the distracting sight of the airship floating above the walls, it soon it becomes clear to the party that the ashy smell had been coming from the city itself: a column of smoke is rising from somewhere within the city and loud bells can be heard clanging wildly. Within a few seconds, several figures shimmy up the ropes and bring the airship further down, picking up several figures atop the wall as it does so. The airship then begins speeding off deeper into the city, quickly flying out of sight.

Othrodon
http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2836/9596105308_cdf1eac04d_o.jpg
Thanks to jordangrimmer (http://www.deviantart.com/art/Tyr-City-Walls-304091602) for the artwork

A large raft is propelled by complex pullies, serving as the bridge between the Jointrock Plains and the city proper. Several humans and half-orcs wander about, pulling ropes and levers, loading cargo onto small boats, and generally working hard. As the group approaches the shoreline, a young half-orc with a shaven head and several tattoos takes notice, striding up to the group with an irritated expression on his face. However, upon getting a closer look at the group, his cigarette falls from his mouth and his eyes open wide in shock.

The half-orc nervously stammers before forming a coherent sentence. "By the gods themselves! You're summa them Chosen fellas, ain'tcha? What can I do for ya? I'm justa dock workah, but I'm sure I can contact someone who can help yas." The half-orc gives a nervous smile, his small tusks pointing out of his mouth.

zingbobco000

2013-08-25, 07:52 PM

Immediately taking charge, Pelon says "Why yes, could you please direct us to your commanding officer, but first I have some questions: 'Why are you loading so much cargo', and 'what was that large airship?'"

OOC: He makes an insight check to try to determine if he's lying just in case (I won't meta-game) I'm probably gonna fail at this though.

Rolls:
[roll0]

Edit: WOW...

Dacia Brabant

2013-08-26, 11:17 PM

The Herald

The Herald coolly glanced over toward the Pelorite for a brief yet chilly moment before acknowledging the dockhand.

"And, I should think more pressingly, what's happening within the city walls to cause such a stir?"

LimeSkeleton

2013-08-27, 06:39 PM

DM post

The half-orc looks slightly taken aback at the direction Pelon's questions are taking, but after scratching his stubbly chin, he replies, his voice not quite as tremulous as before.
"Commandin' officer? Well, Morgan is the head of the shippin' company I work for, but we ain't a military group or nothin', if it please ya, sirs. I'm sure my boss would be willin' to help yas." The half-orc pauses for a moment before giving himself a light smack on the forehead. "I forgot to introduce myself! Mah name's Ragathan, Rag fo' short. Anyways, these boxes are fulla goods from a boat that came sailin' down not half an hour ago. Mostly foodstuffs we don't get in tha city, I think. The city's sufferin' a small bit of famine right now, so we gotta get plentya food in there." Ragathan pauses for a moment, beckoning the Chosen to follow him, clearly unsure of how exactly to do so without potentially offending these terrifying newcomers.

He gives a slight grunt and he lifts up a crate and carries it over to the cable-supported platform. Some of the other workers give the group strange looks, but most quickly look away in respect upon recognizing who they are. Ragathan takes a moment to answer the rest of the questions. "As for tha airship and the ruckus, the answers are related. See, lately, things haven't been peaceful in Othrodon. Riots, protestin', people burnin' down buildin's... Most of it's due to the city practically splittin' into separate pieces, everyone blamin' everybody else for all the trouble we been facin'. The airships are mostly used for puttin' out fires and for the different factions to have an easy way of movin' their forces about. Right now, I think there's another fire in the Pine District, where all them Gnomes live." Rag pauses a moment to take a small swig from a bottle at his hip, before giving the group another toothy grin and hefting another crate.

The party soon spots a tall human woman striding toward them, her raven hair tied back in a ponytail reaching her waist. Clearly confident in her step, the woman's clothing marks her as a cut above the rest of the rabble, and the way even the toughest-looking workers give her a wide berth also speaks to her reputation. As she draws within speaking distance, the group can make out a hideously ugly scar running across her cheek, clearly having healed quite badly in the past. Aside from this, however, the woman is somewhat attractive, although definitely not a beauty-pageant contestant. The woman crosses her arms as she reaches the party before raising an eyebrow and beginning to speak: "Any problems here, Rag?" The half-orc hurriedly shakes his head. She gives a small gesture with her head, nodding toward the rest of the crates. Ragathan takes the hint and scurries off to continue his work elsewhere.

"Any questions you have regarding my workers can be addressed to me, thank you. I'm Morgan, I run this cargo-handling business. Do you require assistance? We're quite busy with our work, given the recent food shortages." The woman stands with her hands on her hips, eyebrow still raised questioningly.

Insight DC 14
Even if Morgan is putting on a reasonable facade of disinterest in the group's status as Chosen, it's definitely taken her interest. In addition, her tone sounded slightly off when she addressed the group, almost like she was masking regret or remorse.

Perception DC 12
Morgan is wearing several small piece of jewelry. Of note, there is a wedding band on her left hand, upon which is painted a thick, black stripe. This typically symbolizes that one's spouse has passed relatively recently. Also of note, there is an amulet hidden under her tunic which is clearly enchanted, although it is difficult to discern its purpose or significance.

@Pelon
That half-orc did seem a little suspicious, when Pelon stops to think about it. Perhaps there's an ulterior motive for all this cargo being moved. After all, a famine hardly seems likely..right?

zingbobco000

2013-08-27, 08:13 PM

Pelon starts to talk to Morgan about the famine. Hoping, to 1. Get some answers about this town and all the going-ons, and 2. trying to make her slip up when talking (Using the note that you just told me also as a char I wouldn't really look around for anything suspicious, I would think a ship-yard collecting food is normal, the people running it though.)

Roll Insight check:
[roll0]

Edit: Yeah I get to click that spoiler! Oh yeah almost forgot, this is what Pelon actually says

"Sooo... what's going on in this town, I heard about some revolts, does that have anything to do with the food shortages?" (continuing after Lime answers) "An army runs on its stomach that's what I know, and if there are food shortages shouldn't the normal militia in this town be able to hold it because of the protester's weakened state?"

zingbobco000

2013-08-28, 02:04 PM

After taking the hint on Morgan's motives, (or so he thinks at least) Pelon decides to look around to check for any more suspicious items that might be shipped around. [roll0]

Edit: Darn't

Dacia Brabant

2013-08-29, 02:07 PM

The Herald

This is where the Herald's history of womanizing would have kicked in...had he still been alive. Well, it's still worth a try.

"Ah, you must be in charge. Well you may be able to assist us with our mission to save this city--from itself, it would seem--but perhaps you can also solve a mystery for me: namely, why should a woman of action like yourself be relegated to leading a mere merchant company?"

It might not have been the best choice of words--blame his lifeless brain for that--but at least his impression (hopefully) was as sincere as it could be under the circumstances.

Let's see if I can't soften her attitude a bit.

Diplomacy: [roll0]

Chambers

2013-08-29, 04:23 PM

Illgath

The giant takes a long look at the airship as it flies away before turning his attention to the laborer and the woman. He glances down at her hand and hears her hearbreak behind her voice. "All is not yet lost." He says as he looks down to her, but not down at her. "Now is not the time to hide from your faith but take vengeance upon those who have taken from you." He says and points with one massive hand towards the icon beneath her tunic. "Who hears your prayers?"

LimeSkeleton

2013-09-07, 07:26 PM

DM Post

Morgan removes her hands from her hips and crosses them across her chest as Pelon begins speaking, listening intently. "The famine and the shortages are related to some extent, yes. Tensions are already high, so with half the city going hungry each night we tend to see a lot more violence than we might otherwise. I don't know much about soldiers, but I do agree that the one thing they can all agree on is that they can't get enough food. The problem lies in that while, yes, the rebels are starving, it remains an issue for the city militia as well. When both sides are hungry, angry and determined to blame the other side for all their problems, blood tends to be shed quite a bit"

Morgan takes a moment to glance at the Herald, her eyes scanning his strange, icy armor and seemingly un-living state. She colors a little at his words, clearly unused to this kind of flattery. "Y-your mission? I should have known. Beings such as yourselves do not simply wander into a city looking for work, do they? If your goal is as noble as you posit, then perhaps I'd be willing to offer some assistance. I know the captain of the city militia fairly well, he was a friend of my hus- my friend."Morgan's face flushes when she trips up her words, but she finishes her thoughts in a steady voice. "I can introduce you to him and he can fill you in on some of the details. His name's Captain Hammerknock." She smiles at his question about running a merchant company, but is distracted by massive form of Illgath and his rumbling voice.

She turns to him, craning her neck slightly to look him in the eyes. "I don't...Thank you, stranger. I appreciate the kind words." A genuinely compassionate smile breaks out on her face before she wrestles control of herself once more, her expression returning to its earlier look of slight disinterest. "The gods, of course. Who else?" Noticing where Illgath is pointing, Morgan removes the amulet from her blouse and holds it in her hand. The amulet is simple: a golden disc decorated with a crowned lightning bolt. "It is..was.. my husband's. Lord Zeus was..very important to him. I wear his amulet out of respect for his passing and so that I may carry him near my heart always. I am sure the three of you are accustomed with loss; the Chosen tend to live lives like candles with a flame on each end. So very, very bright, but so very, very short..." Morgan replaces the amulet to its original position, her eyes distant.

Suddenly, she straightens up and turns her head toward some workers carrying some small crates. "You two! Benji, Malukah. Ensure that everything here continues smoothly. I have some business with these gentlemen in the city itself." She turns on her heel, striding over to a cable-suspended raft without any crates atop it.

"Come on, you three. Would you like to meet the fourth most powerful person in Othrodon?"

zingbobco000

2013-09-11, 09:13 AM

Pelon follows Morgan inside the city.

Chambers

2013-09-11, 07:26 PM

Illgath

"Daughter of Zeus, you too are chosen to bear his image. Wear it openly so that your husband's spirit may know where look for you." Illgath says and holds her stare for a moment longer than awkward. "Yes, please take us to meet your Captain friend."

Dacia Brabant

2013-09-13, 04:07 PM

The Herald

"Then that is who we must see, for as you said ours is a noble cause. You have my thanks, and my... prayers that my Queen was merciful with your husband," the Herald replied sincerely, but with his voice echoing from the Other Side it may not have seemed very comforting.

He motions for her to lead them into the city to see the captain of the guard.

LimeSkeleton

2013-09-17, 07:12 PM

DM Post

As the party steps onto the small raft, it tips slightly with the addition of Illgath's weight, but quickly balances itself as Morgan gives a sharp whistle. Across the river, the figure of a dockworker can be seen cranking a large handle. Within a a minute or two, the raft is propelled across the stretch of water and bumps gently into the dock on the other side.

The wooden dock stretches far in either direction, but the impressiveness of its size is lessened somewhat by the gargantuan wall and accompanying gate that stands before the group of Chosen. The noise of the city becomes clearer and clearer as Morgan strides purposefully toward the open gate, making the muffled sounds heard from across the way sharply audible. Vendors hawking their wares, musicians playing in the streets, criers shouting the latest in news at the top of their lungs. On the surface, the city appears to be thriving, yet a pervasive sense of desperation and fear is easily detected by the party.

Morgan continues to walk, never stumbling or stopping, her confidence parting the crowds before her. As the group grows nearer and nearer to a large, grey stone building, the distant din of alarm bells become clearer, accompanied by loud shouting and clanging. Morgan's eyes widen. "Quickly, into the stone building there. Captain Hammerknock should hopefully be on the top floor, if we have the gods' luck with us." Without further ado, Morgan darts to the heavy, wooden door in the front of the building, her hand grasping the handle.

Suddenly, the door swings open with great force, knocking Morgan over and sending her tumbling backwards, her body striking The Herald's legs and stopping abruptly. A small figure stands in the doorway, shoulders squared. A gruff voice calls out:

"Watch where yer goin', ya bugger! What kind o' idjit jus' stands in front o' doors, waitin' to be- Gods above; Morgan, is that you?" The stocky figure rushes forward, the sun's rays striking his armor and causing it to shine brightly. The Dwarf's plate-armor is adorned with a golden crest on the breastplate, a large, ornamental "O" in the center. A helmet obscures much of his face, but the Dwarf pauses for a moment to flip up the visor, revealing a finely braided beard the color of straw. Hanging from his belt are several pairs of manacles, along with a thick metal rod, clearly intended for bashing skulls.

"Who are ye lot? Strange bunch o' folk if you ask me. I'm Captain Hammerknock, by the way. I maintain the law in this here city."

A small groan comes from Morgan on the ground, but she manages to pick herself up, rubbing a growing bump on her forehead.

zingbobco000

2013-09-17, 08:35 PM

We are the chosen, and we were wondering if you knew what was happening in this city with it fighting itself? Pelon says in a matter-of-fact like tone to the man, not insulting just a statement.

Dacia Brabant

2013-09-19, 09:31 PM

The Herald

Glancing first at Morgan's prone form and then at the dwarf, the Herald silently surmised that Hammerknock was a most appropriate name for this soldier.

"What my sunny comrade said is true, Captain, if inartful; we were sent here by an oracle who divined a great peril for this city--and for we Chosen. As for myself, I am called the Herald of Winter, at your service," he said with a stiff salute, ever the paladin even in death.

LimeSkeleton

2013-09-22, 02:11 PM

DM Post

Morgan continues rubbing her head, grumbling slightly. "As they say, these men here are Chosen, sent by the gods themselves for some noble purpose. I thought it best that they meet you, Captain, as there's little doubt in my mind that they could be of great assistance with Othrodon's current situation." She steps back, giving Hammerknock a long, piercing look, during which the Dwarf begins to stroke his beard thoughtfully.

The Captain returns The Herald's salute readily, his countenance betraying his clear admiration for the man before him. "It's mighty heartening to see a man like yeself; a fightin' man, if I ever saw one!" Hammerknock's train of thought is suddenly interrupted by a loud BOOM, followed by the groaning and crashing of a nearby building beginning to topple.

"I'm sorry lads, but I fear yer questionin' may hafta wait a wee bit. If ye be willin' to help me, perhaps we can stop these rampagin' anarchists. From what I hear, the Temple of Eris has been gettin' some new followers, and they've been doin' everything they can to bring this here city to its knees." Hammerknock draws the metal rod from his belt, slapping it into his palm a few times for emphasis.

"I'd appreciate it if ye lot would do your best to keep 'em alive; it wouldn't look good for the Othrodon if too many civilians were to die at the hands of the guard, no matter how destructive they are."

Morgan draws a thin, curved dagger from inside her tunic, twirling it in her fingers experimentally. Tiny sparks of electricity dance along its blade as she does so, but it doesn't seem to surprise her.

Suddenly, another explosion sounds, prompting the imminent collapse of the building directly next to the stone tower, sending shards of stone and wood at the party even as the main portion of the structure plummets toward them...

"Brace yourselves, Chosen; this won't be easy."

zingbobco000

2013-09-22, 09:59 PM

Pelon yells at anyone who might be near "GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!!" and then tries to give himself some knowledge on the structural support of the building.

Rolls:
Ok, I don't really know what this is but I'm just going to do an INT check, so here I go:
[roll0]
If he succeeds he tries to send a bolt of force, (thunder slam) at some weak spot of the building to lessen the blow, but if it's different, I'll just do something else. But if he fails, he'll just try to yell at some bystanders some more if his message is not clear enough.

EDIT: so... close...

Dacia Brabant

2013-09-23, 07:16 PM

The Herald

"I did not pass through fire and death to be buried beneath a building," the Herald grumbled loudly. "...and I doubt these anarchists planned to either. Honored comrades, there must be a duct or a tunnel or alcove or... something. Some access way we can use, for we'll be crushed if we remain here."

I don't know if Streetwise will count for getting the Captain or Morgan to come up with a backway out of here, but that's what I'm going with because my own Perception stinks. :smalltongue:

[roll0]

Chambers

2013-09-23, 07:37 PM

Illgath

"Sound advice." Illgath says as takes the Captains directive literally. Taking hold of the door Illgath attempts to rip it from its hinges and hold it above the heads of those present, hopefully shielding them from the falling debris.

Athletics [roll0]

LimeSkeleton

2013-09-27, 07:07 PM

DM Post

As the force of the explosion pushes a wave of debris towards the group of Chosen (Along with Captain Hammerknock and Morgan), a particularly large chunk of brick begins hurtling towards Pelon. Although he manages to vaporize a portion of it with a blast of sunlight from his palm, the rest of it continues to plummet towards the group. However, Illgath retrieves a sturdy wooden door from the nearby stone tower, using it to shield Pelon from the remainder of the bricks that tumble down.

As The Herald shouts out his suggestion, Morgan springs into action, pointing the group toward a nearby alley that should hopefully shield them from the brunt of the rubble. "Chosen, follow me with haste! There should be access to a tun-" "AAAAAGGHHHHHHHGHGHH!!!" Her exclamation is suddenly cut short by an incredibly loud scream issuing from directly where the earlier explosion had sounded. As the party turns to escape, a group of figures emerges from the smoking hole in the building, their faces obscured by golden masks, each of them shouting and waving strange implements and weapons about.

Masks
http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7391/9973490846_b2745e9930.jpg

Captain Hammerknock shouts out: "They be acolytes of Eris, sure enough. Those masks ain't difficult to recognize. Retreat, quickly! We're soon to be blasted ta smithereens from sucha poor position!" As the Dwarf turns to sprint to where Morgan had lead the group, a nasally voice erupts from the shattered building.

"Nisl ut imperium ad genua!" A tall, masked figure steps into the sunlight from the building, his face entirely obscured. His long robes are golden with black streaks, seemingly without a true pattern to them. In his right hand he holds an immense, golden staff, the top of which is adorned with a bright red apple. He raises it in the air and the apple begins to glow bright white, even as the other acolytes begin to laugh insanely.

"Gustabit ira Eris!"

zingbobco000

2013-09-28, 12:12 PM

Pelon quickly runs with Morgan, trying in vain to be more help than he was in the building. But he tries to see if the masks might have some powers that would give them an advantage over his companions. But he finally throws a ball of dragonfrost at one of the acolytes.

Maybe a arcana check to see if the masks have magic. [roll0]

Finally the dragonfrost [roll1] vs. FORT [roll2] damage

Dacia Brabant

2013-10-02, 05:05 PM

The Herald

Something stirred in the Herald's undead mind as he beheld the insane figures, and it wasn't friendly.

"Dischordians!? Begone, you foul madmen, or face the wrath of the Raven Queen! She hasn't forgotten your transgressions against the laws of nature and neither has her champion!"

Standing athwart death with raven shield defiant, he did his best to attract the anarchists' attention as long as possible while the others escape.

Intimidate: [roll0]

Basically I'm trying to startle and cow them into inaction long enough to cover the escape.

LimeSkeleton

2013-10-05, 07:43 PM

DM Post

As the Chosen do their best to force the Acolytes of Eris to retreat, they are momentarily distracted just long enough to miss one of them hurl what appears to be a golden apple towards a nearby building. Illgath turns just in time to be able to warn his companions, but the blast from the explosive causes a large chunk of stone to fall on Morgan's leg, narrowly missing The Herald's head. As blood spurts onto the alley's stone surface, she cries out in agony, then suddenly goes silent as she passes into unconsciousness. Captain Hammerlock, whose arm is hanging at a strange angle and whose face is lined with pain and worry, quickly seizes her and manages to unpin the woman.

"Blast! Those cowardly sons of- I need to get Miss Thunderborne here to safety, lads. Please do yer best to take 'em down before they cause too much more..chaos. Thank ye." With a hasty bow, the Dwarf hoists Morgan onto his wide shoulders, grunting in pain from his twisted arm as he does so. However, he manages to muster up the strength to hustle away with her limp form, leaving the party to face the impending Acolytes.

The nasally voice rings out once more: "Foolish dissenters! I am the mighty Voice of Chaos! Only The Anarch herself holds more of our Lady's favor in this city. Dare you to resist the unyielding force of entropy? Then watch as you are unmade, just as all things will be!"

The Voice slams his staff on the ground, suddenly teleporting himself and the other Acolytes from the ruined building to the large, stone building (now missing a door after Illgath used it as a shield).

"Percutiam separati, Domina mi! Discordia erit malum pereant!"

Map
Combat Map (Pyromancers) (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=44206)

LimeSkeleton

2013-10-05, 08:12 PM

DM Post

Taking advantage of the momentary surprise caused by their rapid teleportation, the Acolytes rapidly move into position as they reappear in bursts of golden light, sunlight gleaming brightly off their masks. The Voice slams his staff on the ground, spurring each of them into action.

Three of them raise their hands, seeming to charge up some mystical force of entropy in their palms. The air shimmers and distorts around them for a few seconds, before a sudden blast sounds and a streak of chaotic energy flies at each of the Chosen. The fourth Acolyte, who had thrown the explosive device earlier and remained on the ruined building, appears to be fiddling with something on his belt, and does not make any attempt to attack the party. The Voice laughs loudly, snorting intermittently and slapping his thigh as he does so.

"Do you really think you can stand against the power of the Mother of Chaos?!

The Acolytes roar in triumph as two of the blasts hit their mark, warping the armor of both the Herald and Pelon, and sending them staggering slightly, their skin itching and burning, their brain momentarily befuddled. The sensation of the chaos magic is strange, yet somehow almost comforting at the same time...

However, Illgath simply raises the door he ripped from the building earlier, easily preventing the magic from harming him. However, the entropic magic reduces the door to splinters, some of them fine enough to be considered sawdust.

"Revertere ad informitas creaturae!"

Rolls
Attack vs. Pelon Reflex: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Attack vs. Illgath Reflex: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Attack vs. The Herald Reflex: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

zingbobco000

2013-10-06, 10:18 AM

"That was a strange feeling, we best be on our guard more against these attacks." He says to his companions. He then moves to get a clear shot, and says in almost a mystic language some arcane words "Hayshubi, naironi, harigota!" As a bolt of frost appears in his hand and he shoots it at the voice.

Move 2 squares up, and shoot dragonfrost vs. FORT [roll0] [roll1] and push one square north-east.

Dacia Brabant

2013-10-07, 06:35 PM

The Herald glowered underneath his helmet, his eyes burning angrily.

"You ought to have heeded my warning, for now I will revisit every pain you've inflicted tenfold upon you!" his voice boomed from beyond the grave, presenting his challenge directly to the Voice of Chaos.

All of a sudden things got very cold, as out of nowhere a snowstorm swept through the alley, leaving a drift of compacted snow and ice that was not unlike a ramp leading up from where the Herald of Winter stood on the street to the rooftop where the cultists awaited to die. Easily climbing it despite his heavy armor, the Herald soon stood before the Voice of Chaos, and no sooner than he'd reached the top did the snow melt away.

"Winter is coming for you," he stated matter-of-factly before lunging at the leader with his frozen rapier. No sooner than he did so, the Herald brazenly charged past the Voice of Chaos intending to strike down the cultist behind him.

Minor action: Divine Challenge on the Voice of Chaos, marking the target. Until the mark ends, if he makes an attack that doesn't include me as a target (which would be at -2) he automatically takes 8 radiant damage.

Move action: moving to the square that's directly southwest of the Voice of Chaos.

Standard action: Piercing Shard on the Voice of Chaos.
vs. Will: [roll0]
Hit: [roll1] cold and psychic damage.
Effect: I am invisible to the target until the start of my next turn.

Gestalt rules state that we get 2 standard actions per turn. If you'd rather scale things down a bit and not include that, then I'll use my Action Point instead. Either way, I'll also charge at Acolyte 1 using Ardent Strike. No opportunity attack since I'm invisible to the Voice of Chaos, unless he's got like blindsight or something.

vs. AC: [roll2]
Hit: [roll3] damage and the target is subject to my Divine Sanction until the end of my next turn.

Oh and don't forget, everybody, you gain a +1 shield bonus to AC so long as the Herald has his shield. Just doing my part. :smallsmile:

LimeSkeleton

2013-10-10, 07:41 PM

DM post

The Chosen of Pelor harnesses the power of the Arcane, supplementing it with his own Divine nature. The frost that he emits twists and writhes in the air, seeming to brighten the sunlight that passes through its crystalline shards. As Pelon's bolt of ice strikes the Voice, he shrieks in pain, clearly not having anticipated anybody fighting back.

"Arrrggghh! Stop it! You can't harm me! I'm the Voice of Cha-" The man's words are stopped short by The Herald's sudden appearance, swiftly followed by a freezing cold rapier impaling the Voice's shoulder. This time, the masked servitor of Eris is struck dumb by the terrifying appearance and subsequent disappearance of undead knight. Small whimpers are heard from behind the golden mask, and his pale hands flail helplessly as he desperately searches for the Paladin.

The Voice is bloodied

Again, The Herald's blade strikes true, drawing blood and instantly rendering it frozen. Yelping with pain, the acolyte frantically waves his hands, attempting to summon the magic from before. It quickly fizzles out, however, and the man lets out a panicked "No!" Suddenly, the acolyte on the opposite building cheers triumphantly, a black apple in his hand. "The Entropy Charge is ready, Vocem! Let it devour the infidels!" The man winds back his arm, seemingly in preparation to throw the blackened apple at Illgath and Pelon.

Map (URL)
Combat Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=44754)

Map (Image)
http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7443/10198573933_561ff1e89b_o.png

Chambers

2013-10-10, 08:58 PM

Illgath

Dropping the ruined door Illgath drew a rune of silver fire in the air in front of him. It hovered there and grew in size, turning on it's side as it floated down to the ground. Illgath stepped onto it and the rune lifted him up and carried him to the next roof, dropping him right in front of the lead cultist. Heedless of the danger he placed both hands on the hilt of his greatsword and slammed it point first into the roof. The air shook from the impact and the cultists head rang with thunder.

With a heave he yanked his sword out of the roof and in the some motion swung it towards the cultist in front of him. "Your chaos will doom you as well."

Minor: Stone's Endurance: Gain Resist 5 all until EONT.
Move: Move to the adjacent square southwest of the Voice of Chaos.
Standard: Thunder of Judgment targeting the Voice of Chaos, the cultist the Herald is adjacent to and the cultist with the entropy apple. This will provoke an OA from the Voice of Chaos.
Standard: Word of Exchange on the Voice of Chaos.

Thunder of Judgment (Vs Fortitude Defense)
Attack vs Voice of Chaos [roll0]
Attack vs Cultist adacent to Herald [roll1]
Attack vs Cultists with entropy apple [roll2]

Hit: Damage [roll3] Thunder damage and the target is Dazed until the end of my next turn.

Word of Exchange (Vs Armor Class)
Attack vs Voice of Chaos [roll4]

Hit: [roll5] damage and the target has -2 penalty to all defenses until the end of my next turn. Next ally to hit the target gains a +4 power bonus to Armor Class until the end of my next turn.

Illgath, HP 44/44

LimeSkeleton

2013-10-13, 02:28 PM

DM post

Illgath's thunderous blows strike true, causing the Voice and the other affected Acolytes to clutch their heads in pain, clearly dizzy from the staggering impact of the blow. As The Voice struggles to regain his lucidity after the incredible onslaught launched against him, Illgath again brings his sword down in a murderous arc, lopping the Voice's arm off in one calculated crescendo of violence. Strangely, the man does not scream or yell in pain as he had done before, but merely stands there, his severed arm lying on the rooftop beside him. The seconds seem to stretch out as his blood drips onto the grey stone, a profound silence gripping the area despite the previous din of screams and thunder.

"Vas confractum, et dederit mihi entropy rerum regeneratio. ERIS, STRIKE THEM DOWN!" With a burst of blood, a new arm rapidly begins growing in place of the one severed by Illgath, its skin a smooth, silver hue, shining like metal. The fingers clench into a tight fist, which opens to reveal a swirling maelstrom of blackness, dotted with points of light like tiny stars.

Taking advantage of the bewildering situation, several of the Acolytes begin to rain bolts of chaos upon the party, their voices ragged and fading. As the bolts fire, it becomes clear that their garb and perhaps even their bodies are eroding, seeming to trail off into thin air. Finally, despite Illgath's thunderous attack, the cultist holding the black apple reels back and tosses it. Landing directly between Illgath and The Herald, it smashes into shards of black glass, which begin to swirl like a vortex. The Voice of Chaos begins to laugh, his voice deeper and scratchier than before.

"I may die today, Chosen, but I will drag you into the void with me!

Map (URL)
Combat Map (http://pyromancers.com/media/view/main.swf?round_id=45001)

Map (IMG)
http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8535/10253146075_efd0140050_o.png

Rolls
Acolyte 4 Attack vs. Pelon Reflex: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Acolyte 2 Attack vs. Illgath Reflex: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Acolyte 1 Attack vs. The Herald Reflex: [roll4] (Provokes opportunity)
Damage:[roll5]

Black Apple Vortex
Attack vs. Illgath Fortitude: [roll6]
Attack vs. The Herald Fortitude: [roll7]
Hit: [roll8] damage and ongoing 5 damage (save ends).