Reign of Winter IC

[Jötunn]

http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--bq7ICBLP9c/UTAW10jJoNI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/hCoajM0-MgU/s1600/ShackledHut.jpg

OOC Thread (http://tinyurl.com/mbcsb8u)
The sleepy village of Heldren has rarely seen so much excitement or concern. Hunters from the nearby Border Wood speak of unnaturally cold weather at the height of summer that descended on the forest just days ago. Heavy snow followed, and those who returned spoke of an uneasy presence in the woods, as well as new, dangerous predators. No one knows what this event means, but the town's soothsayer, Old Mother Theodora, claims dark times lie ahead.
As if in proof of that dire prophecy, a badly wounded mercenary arrived in town yesterday, claiming to be a bodyguard of Lady Argentea Malassene. He told the village council that the noblewoman's escort came under attack by bandits and strange, wintry creatures near the edge of the Border Wood. He alone escaped, and Lady Argentea was dragged away into the forest. Now the townsfolk cast fearful eyes towards the snowy forest, worried about what else might emerge to threaten their peaceful village.


You, as well as the rest of the current residents of Heldren have been gathered by the village council in the town hall - a rather grand building for a village of this size, it boasts a clock tower overlooking the town square, and is big enough to host almost the entire populace for gatherings like this one. You are addressed by the de facto leader of the village council, a mature human woman who introduces herself to the smattering of strangers in the crowd as Counciller Ionnia Teppen as she begins her formal address. "I thank you all for coming at such short notice to this meeting tonight. As some of you know, we have received word that a noblewoman of Taldor - the Lady Argentea Malassene - has been abducted within walking distance of our village. Now, as most of you know we have only the bare bones of a militia so if we are to mount a rescue we will have to rely on volunteers. But before that, let me introduce you to Yuln Oerstag, our... messenger."

She indicates to her right, where next to her sits a elderly Ulfen warrior, a huge bear of a man who has clearly seen better days - he is wrapped in bandages, and his nose and fingers have taken on a black hue from what appears to be serious frostbite, despite the warm summer days you have been experiencing here in Taldor. A stands up, leaning on a crutch and begins to speak. "I am - was - one of Lady Malassene's guards. I was the only survivor, so far as I saw, of the attack just outside the Border Wood. We thought they were just bandits at first - outlaws who hide like wolves in the forest. Truly, they were no match for us. But then came the cold fey of the north. They appeared among us and the battle turned quickly. My people speak of the winter-touched all the time, but I never expected to meet them this far south."

He pauses, and coughs for a few moments, clearly still very unwell. A balding man in priest's robes, apparently another member of the council, moves from his seat to support him but Yuln waves him back before continuing. "They took her into the forest, back through the ice and snow. Beyond that, I don't know. I followed as far as I could, but the winter-touched were too many and too hard to fend off in the snow alone. I barely escaped, and rode to seek help here. And mark my words, it's one of the White Witches who took her. The winter-touched do nothing without the leave of those who placed the ice in their hearts. If they're here, it's because a White Witch sent them. And much worse will follow."

This last pronouncement is met by mutterings, and the meeting slowly closes after that, with one last plea from Ionna for volunteers to come forward. Slowly, citizens and travellers filter out until it is just you who are left standing before Ionnia, Yuln and the rest of the village council. They look at you expectantly almost as if wondering why you're still here, considering the reaction of the rest of the town.

I wrote the last bit assuming most of you would stay, if you want to filter out with the rest of the crowd and have an idea for how you might still be drawn into the campaign feel welcome to do so, and perhaps let me know by PM what your idea is.

[drayen]

Standing a full six and a half feet tall, long platinum blond hair hanging well past his broad shoulders which are encased in overlapping leather scales running down to an armoured war kilt hanging to his knees, a very large man steps toward the gathered village elders. The large round shield on his arm is bedecked with nasty pitted iron spikes yet there is a falcata, that traditional weapon of Taldor, strapped to his belt. His pale grey eyes look challengingly to the assemblage before he begins to address the old Ulfen mercenary, he speaks, "Öldungur, ég Vilgeirr, sonur Isleif og Agetha af Ullerskad. Þetta Lady Malassene þó fjarlæg, er erfingi að Primogen krúnunnar og það er skylda mín sem Ulfen vörður til að finna hana og koma henni aftur til öryggis. Ég mun vera fyrsti maðurinn."


Elder, I am Vilgeirr, son of Isleif and Agetha of Ullerskad. This Lady Malassene, however distant, is an heir to the Primogen Crown and it is my duty as an Ulfen guard to find her and bring her back to safety. I will be the first man.

[daelrog]

A man near the back of the room, the hood of his cloak and downward tilt of his head covering his features, spoke up next. He spoke common with an eloquent and light-hearted tone. "It brings a great warmth to my heart to hear such bravery in another, especially as I have met the good Lady before, and would not see her left to such a grim fate as bandits and fae." There was a bitterness to his voice underlying the gravity of the situation. "I believe I can aid this man, even if the fabled witches are involved."

[SlyJohnny]

One of the men who remains is a plump and heavyset human, with tanned skin contrasting with that of the burly Ulfen man next to him who just stood up and spoke his piece. He sports a black van dyke beard which is decorated with golden chains and beads and rings. His hair is thin and jet-black.

He's wearing rich furs with fine clothing underneath, a lovely jade and gold fabric with really well made brown leather shoes, trimmings inlaid with delicate filigree denoting his status as a priest. His ostentatious clothes and his jewellery have made him hard to miss about town, as is the fact that he's a loud, larger-than-life sort of fellow, always guffawing or chatting to anyone nearby. Now, however, he's silent, his brow furrowed, and he rubs his chin in deep thought.

Finally he stands. You can see he's a very short man, especially as he stands next to the the towering Ulfen warrior, and he's lightly armed, carrying a dagger at his belt and a crossbow slung over his shoulders. The crossbow at a glance appears well-maintained, but not well-used. He glances back as the last of the villagers file out, frowning at their lack of community spirit. He rises, intoning a short prayer to the Judge of the Gods, touching the necklace around his neck which appears to be of a large, elaborate golden key.

"Your pardon, elders. My name is Ios. I am a trader, but also a priest of Abadar. I can heal the wounded and provide support to any warriors you send after this noblewoman, whether to rescue her or simply investigate. I volunteer to assist, but I have questions for Oerstag." His voice is deep and clear in contrast to his stature.

He turns to the injured guard.

"Firstly. You say they took your mistress. Did they take any other living prisoners, or only her? Did it seem to you that they moved straight for her, as if it were a targeted kidnapping all along, or do you believe they simply decided she was the most valuable hostage to claim, after they'd won the battle and were taken stock of all they had gained?"

He moves forward towards the man, wanting to get a better look at his face. "Secondly. Your assailants. How many mortal men? How many of these cold fae? Can you describe the appearance of these creatures, their capabilities, any magic they used? I appreciate this might be difficult for you to recall... you lost many friends that day... and I know well how chaotic caravan attacks can be, how difficult it can be to remember specifics afterwards. But if we are to go looking for your mistress, our lives may depend on knowing exactly what we're up against. The smallest detail you can remember may be important." he says, speaking softly and sympathetically.

Ios studies the man closely as he waits for a response. He had been watching the man attentively as he spoke during the meeting. He tries to analyse whether he actually believes the guard's yarn to be genuine, or whether it had the odour of a prepared, carefully rehearsed falsehood.

Casting Guidance, expending it on my Sense Motive check: [roll0] Edit: Oh! Also expending a use of Silver Tongued Haggler to get another +1, boosting it to 23.

[Dayaz]

The princess is a beautiful woman, or so I've heard." A voice calls. If anyone looked, they would see a man, just of 6 feet tall, striding towards the injured guard, a white tiger trailing behind. "Shelyn bids her flock to protect and cherish things of beauty. If you'll have use, Razzah and I will lend you claws and blade, fang and arrow, to seeing to the princess' safe return. Tracking anything through snow and ice is difficult, but Razzah and I together should be able to do so, with a little luck."

Garren ended this speech, standing before the ground with his Shelyn holy symbol prominently displayed around his neck, his bow over one shoulder, and his glaive held tightly in his right hand.

[Lord Of Mantas]

The fifth and final man to stand was a young Varisian, with olive skin, deep brown eyes and jet black hair with a goatee and mustache that did nothing to conceal his relative youth. In stark contrast to the chiseled, armored musculature of the Ulfen fighter he sat next to, and the stoutness of the priest on the opposite side, he displayed a litheness that was only just barely bulked up to something approaching normal by the dark grey furred cloak he wore to keep out the cold. Beneath the cloak, if one looked closely, was what appeared to be a rather bulky tunic, dark green in color, with ornate embroidery sown in yellow. Above it, but below the cloak, hung two sashes with small cylindrical containers sown into them, each of which produced a soft rattling sound when he moved. Completing the ensemble was a red leather pouch and white horn-shaped container at his belt, and thick brown breeches with matching winter boots.

With a dismayed look on his face, the Varisian looked around the now nearly-empty town hall before speaking. "Is no-one else to stay? No-one else willing to help, when there has not only been a kidnapping, but bandits and these cold fey knocking at the town's doorstep!?"

The ferocity with which the young man spoke appeared to surprise even himself, and he coughed awkwardly before continuing to speak. "Er, that is to say... I'm no grand hero of a bard's tale, but I know how to handle myself in a fight." Quick as a whip, the man's hand shot to his right hip, pulling out an object previously concealed by his cloak, and quickly began to twirl it in his hand. "If it's volunteers you want to bring her back..." He tossed the object into the air, and then, with an almost casual air, caught it in his hand. It appeared almost similar to a hand crossbow, but with no stirrup or bowstave, instead having a hollow metal tube embedded in it. It appeared to have an ornate design carved into the stock, worn and scratched with age, and by all appearances was rather battered. "...then you will have my gun, and my aid with it."

[Jötunn]

Ionia Teppen looks extremely relieved at the fact that you are, in fact, volunteering to rescue Lady Malassene. Yuln Oerstag, meanwhile, begins to reply to each of the questions asked of him:

To Vilgeir he speaks: "Æ, vinur minn, það er gott að sjá unga svo tilbúinn að berjast góðu baráttunni. En það er bara rétt að við tölum algengt að allt að skilja. I am glad that there will be at least one among you that understands how to fight against the Winter-touched, for they are a truly fearsome foe to fight against unprepared."

Leander receives an odd look from Ionia Teppen, who then says "You say you are acquainted with the Lady, sir? May I ask your name, for my own curiosity?"

At Ios' questioning, Yuln ponders for a moment, thinking carefully about each question. "No, I am certain that she is the only one taken. But as to whether they descended upon our party in order to target her alone... I am not so sure. Either it was extremely well planned to make it not seem so, or her capture was opportunistic - that's all I can be certain of. As for the winter-touched themselves and their bandit allies, it was evening when they struck - we expected to stay the night at Heldren and since we were so close we had continued on. As for the fey themselves, many that I saw seemed to be wreathed in light, and could daze and distract us before they and their allies cut us down. The stories tell us that cold iron and burning flame are their enemies. Both burn them, and both are weapons that they fear."

Finally, Yuln and Ionia - as well as the rest of the village council - turn to Garren and Iker and thank them for volunteering enthusiastically. Then Ionnia, less formally than at the meet but still somewhat upright speaks to all of you again: "Truly I must thank you all again for being here tonight - you do Heldren a great service. While you are gone we will be attempting to put together a suitable reward, and I am sure that the Lady Massalene or her family would be willing to reward you for the attempt as well. If there is something we can do we can, although I cannot say the same for the other people of Heldren."

One of the other council members, a dwarf with a grin full of shining gold who has up until that point mostly quiet, pipes up a suggestion, "Vivallia might 'ave some warm outfits, from that partic'larly harsh winter a few years back. She ne'er seems to let go of something that she could sell later, that one," to whichthe others nod appreciatively. Vivallia, it seems, is the proprietor of the local general store.

"Ah, my friend, it is good to see a young one so ready to fight the good fight. But it is only proper that we speak common for all to understand."

[SlyJohnny]

Ios ponders for a moment, touching his holy symbol and muttering something to himself. He rests a hand on his barrel-like chest and steps forward. He suddenly seems to grow in stature, becoming larger than life. For a moment, he looks terribly impressive in his fine clothes and furs and priestly adornments. "It is sensible of you to send out a group. These creatures will certainly threaten the community if they're not dealt with now. If we were to agree to do this, and those stories are true," he begins slowly, mind clearly in "bargaining" mode. His words seem to ring out more clearly and the compliment he pays the elders seems to be of more importance, seems to really matter, coming from someone like him. "These warriors must have blades of cold iron to fight the fae. You must have some in the armory. Will you loan us any cold iron weapons you can spare? We will return them in the condition we found them, once the fae are driven off. If we do not, you can take their cost out of our reward."

He looks back at Yuln. "Your information has been most helpful. What tongue did these bandits and fae speak in?"

Casting Guidance, and expending a Channel Energy usage to activate my Authoritative Vestments, so I can make a Diplomacy roll as a Swift Action to improve their attitudes towards me (targetting Ionnia/the elders). [roll0] Expending both Guidance, and a use of silver-tongued haggler.

If that roll doesn't work (or doesn't bump their attitude up enough that they automatically accede to my request), here's another (regular) diplomacy roll to argue for them providing us cold iron weapons for free: [roll1] Casting and expending Guidance, expending a third use of silver-tongued haggler.

I'm not inventing the existence of a village armoury, right? It was mentioned in an earlier description? Also, what was the result of my earlier Sense Motive check? Is Yuln on the up-and-up, as far as I can tell, or is he a shifty bastard who's holding something back

[drayen]

The northman nods at the old mercenary's comment. "Ja, Öldungur. Ég er bara að vera kurteis."

At the dwarf's suggestion, the large human turns to the others. "Goldtooth is right. Though this feels like a northern summer, you will quickly freeze. Yuln Oerstag says it will grow yet colder. If there are cold weather clothes to be had, then we had best avail ourselves of their warmth."


Yes, elder. I am only being courteous.

[Lord Of Mantas]

As Ionia thanked the group, the Varisian gave a disarming but genuine smile, and bowed low. "You are most welcome, Councilor. I grew up with a trade caravan, so I know all too well the threat that bandits pose." At this pronouncement, his smile dimmed somewhat, but did not disappear entirely. "While I can't say I've ever fought fey, I won't let that stop me. Not when someone's in trouble." He drew himself up, trying as best he could to look a little trouble. "This I swear: I will either return with the Lady herself - or, at the very least, some sign of her - or not at all." His face kept its serious countenance for but a moment, then returned to a smile. "Incidentally, Iker's the name - Iker Zabala, at your service."

As Ios asked after the existence of cold iron weapons, Iker turned to him. "Fey are only harmed by cold iron, then?" He looked down at his bandoliers, a concerned look on his face. "This might be a long shot, no pun intended, but I don't suppose you would have any cold iron bullets? If not, then I would like to ask permission to take an ingot of the stuff so I can make my own - if we're going up against these fey, I need to be able to keep up. You can take the cost of the materials from my reward, as well. Shouldn't take me more than a couple of hours, if I have to make my own, long as I can borrow a forge." He paused briefly. "Some warm clothes would also definitely be nice, and snowshoes, if you have them."

[daelrog]

When asked for his name, the hooded man pauses for a brief moment before answering. "You may. My name is Leander." He keeps his head low still, covering his features. "If your curiosity has any other doubts, I would remind it that none of these other men appear to practice arcane arts. I believe that it makes me useful to our cause." He did not know whether Ionia would recognize his name or not, but he preferred to stop any naysayers before they had the chance to speak against him.

[Dayaz]

Garren smiled, "Although I would not turn down a cold iron glaive, or arrows, I will trust my abilities and Shelyn's blessings to see me through. I am Garren, and my companion is Razzah. I am skilled with both glaive and bow, and I have access to some divine magic, drawn from Shelyn's domain of protection." Garren thumped the butt of his glaive softly on the ground. "In an attempt to help the tracking efforts, would you be able to show us on a map of the area, exactly where you were when the attack happened? It would be very helpful, and could likely cut down the search by days, if not weeks."

[Jötunn]

"Cold iron?" The council looks at each other, a bit worried. "I'm not sure even Isker, the village blacksmith would know the making of that. Yuln, however, answers the question, gruffly saying "Cold iron is mined from deep beneath the ground and forged specially. Most would not know the secrets, but my sword is itself forged of the material. I would lend it to one of you, on the condition that you return it to me once my lady is saved."

It is quickly decided that nobody in Heldren would really know how to make snowshoes, unfortunately. Yuln is happy to provide directions to the attack - it was just down one of the main roads that passes through Heldren, and all of the wreckage should still be visible on the roadside.

If you go to Vivialla, you find that she'll sell you the cold weather outfits for 4g each, eager to get rid of them. Isker, as it turns out, has 10 +1 cold iron sling bullets that, with a bit of tinkering and collaboration with Iker, he could transform into 6 properly sized +1 cold iron bullets that fit Iker's gun, but couldn't part for them for more than 40g... each. Otherwise, between Vivallia and Isker you could get most of the non-magical, non-alchemical goods, as well as simple weapons and light armor. Anything heavier or more complicated Isker would have to craft especially for you, and that would take time you don't have.

The villagers are worried about the nearby unnatural winter, but they assume someone with more official problem-solving capabilities will be coming along sooner rather than later. That's why they pay taxes.

[SlyJohnny]

Ios nods in approval as the soldier toying with the glaive asks after a map: he'd been about to ask himself, and the site of the attack seemed the best place to start. "Ah, this can help us all. Thank you for trusting us with your weapon, friend. I will return it once we've won justice for your fallen kin. Does anyone have any more questions? If not, let's set off before the trail grows... Well. Colder."

[Lord Of Mantas]

Iker looked to Ios. "Well said. Although I would like to stop by Vivallia's and Isker's first..."

***

Having bought some warm clothes at the general store, Iker frowned as Isker laid out his offer for the bullets. "I can definitely buy one, but I fear that won't be quite enough, especially if I have the misfortune to miss..." He turned to the hastily assembled group. "Would anyone be willing to spot me an extra 10 gold? I'll pay you back once we're rewarded."

[daelrog]

Leander stood up at the hall. "Wish us success. I feel a prayer may also be in order." It all came off as courtesy, before he took his leave to get warmer clothes to bring.

***

Leander pulled the 10 coins from his pockets. He wasn't hiding his features as much, he was pale, and thin, though his eyes were still mostly obscured. "Of course. After all, your marksmanship is now our marksmanship. It wouldn't do to deny you whatever advantage we can find."

[SlyJohnny]

Ios smiles as Leander passes over the gold to the marksman. "This can help us all." he intones, solemnly. He claps the taller man on the shoulder. "Stout fellow!"

Ios is checking over his gear as the party prepares to leave. He has a few scroll cases strapped to his belt underneath his furs. Occasionally he'll reach for one, seemingly at random, and then nod to himself each time the parchment he produces seems to be what he expects. This has the air of ritual to it, something he does to reassure himself rather than something genuinely needing practice.

"You go by Leander, don't you? I am Ios. How is it that you came to be here, Leander? You're far too pale to be a native of these climes, and it doesn't seem you're here visiting family."

[Lord Of Mantas]

Iker gladly accepted the sorceror's gold, sliding it towards the blacksmith. "Thank you, Leander. Hopefully between these two and Yuln's sword, it'll be enough."

[drayen]

After visiting the old woman to buy cold weather clothes, Vilgeirr joins the others in the purchase of bullets. At the gunslinger's request, the northman reaches into his belt pouch and produces his remaining gold. He slaps twenty pieces of Taldan gold onto the counter. "That's a total of seventy gold, good man. How can that not outright purchase three of those magic beans? Keep in mind that every one of those ævintýri we kill is one less who will drag you out of your house into the cold dark of night. Perhaps it is wisest to give us all of the cold iron bullets so we may slaughter as many ævintýri as possible. You would not enjoy their particular brand of hospitality, shopkeep. Their icy hearts make a northern winter warm and cozy by comparison. We will pay you for what we use out of the reward we earn rescuing the lady."

Viking diplomacy (Intimidate): [roll0]


ævintýri = faerie

[Dayaz]

After receiving the information about where the attack took place, Garren excused himself to go and gather his effects.

-----

Garren approached the group outside the smithy. He had asked Razzah to stay by the road waiting for him to return with the group. Garren sighed under his breath when he heard the Northman's words to the smith. He turned towards the group with a slightly forced smile on his face.

"Gentlemen, when you are done gathering your supplies I will be waiting at the road on the outskirts of town. Razzah and I will meet you there, and we will go forth to retrieve the princess." Garren gave everyone a polite nod, and turned on his heel and briskly made his way back to Razzah, never feeling comfortable without his companion.

[Jötunn]

Isker, the blacksmith, is a gruff, scarred old Taldorian man. As such, at first he doesn't react to Vilgeirr's threats well. "How dare you sir, a man must make his business however he may, and if I was to simply throw away my investment into your hands with a mere promise that you'll pay me in kind? Only a fool would take such a bargain!" he cries out, as Vilgeirr challenges his price. However as Vilgeirr goes on, he pales at the description of the winter fey and draws his daughter, who works as his apprentice, closer to him.

"Go on then. Take them. But you'd best be back with my gold. A man has to protect his family, but he can't do that if he isn't able to eat, too."

That was an exceptionally fair price, by the way. He's melting down 10 sling bullets which would cost 40gp each, to make 6 and he's selling them at the same price. You monster.

You get the 6 bullets, as well as the cold weather gear. Mark all the gold off your sheets as necessary, and then we can try and get this on the way.

[drayen]

The tall northerner nods to the smith. "Your willingness to help is most appreciated. We can now go and save the proverbial princess while you watch over your own."

Vilgeirr winks at the girl before turning away to join his fellow volunteers. As they prepare to head out, he remarks, "The longsword, my shield and those six bullets will have to be enough."

[SlyJohnny]

Ios grins as Villgeir wanders outside and shows off the bullets. "Well done! You men are shaming me, with your readiness to pool so much of your gold for the common cause! You are a fine example." He draws the cold iron long sword from his belt, lets it fall over along his arm, and offers the hilt to the tall northerner. "Here. The other big fellow seems too attached to his glaive. With that and the spikes on your shield, you'll be our first line of defense against the fae."

He shoulders his pack.

"We're ready to move, then? Maybe you'll use that blade very soon, Villgeir. There's a chance the enemy have left someone to watch the site of the attack, so they could send a warning about a group like ours being sent to investigate."

[Lord Of Mantas]

"Go on then. Take them. But you'd best be back with my gold. A man has to protect his family, but he can't do that if he isn't able to eat, too."

Iker spoke up. "For what it's worth, I swear by all that is holy that we will be back with your gold - and maybe just a little extra, as a thank-you gift."

The bullets then safely stowed in his bandolier, Iker exited the store. "I am ready whenever the rest of you are." He drew up his hood, a grim look of determination in his eyes. "Let's do this."

[drayen]

Vilgeirr looks at the proffered longsword. Nodding, he takes it in hand and gives it a couple of swings. "It is a good sword and I shall carry it, but I do most of my fighting with my shield. If another thinks they could employ it, please do not hesitate to call for it."

[daelrog]

When Ios asked of how Leander came to be here, he only replied. "It is a long and good tale indeed. When we're on our way I'll happily share it."

Leander waved off the offer to use the sword with his hand. As they started to head out of the town, he pulled the hood off of his head, revealing a shaved head, slightly pointed ears, snow white skin, and even paler eyes. He was no human. "Now then Ios, to answer your earlier question, I'm somewhat of an unwanted guest in Taldor, but a guest nevertheless. I hope you do not mind, but I will insist that you don't heal me like the others. It would be... painful to say the least."

[Dayaz]

-this post in in the assumption that everyone is heading my way-

Garren looked up from where he was sitting, leaning back against his ever-present companion. Seeing the rest of the group, he nodded with a smile and stood.

"I bid thee all good day, gentlemen. Again. Seeing as we are all now here, it would be best that we all get to know one another on the way to either our glory or death." He said, a small smile playing at his lips. "My name is Garren Malosi, and my tiger is Razzah. I'm mainly a hunter, but I also serve as a member of the Shelyn priesthood, if rather unofficially. I have access to the domain of Protection from my goddess, and I can cast a few minor divine spells. I specialize in ranged combat, but I am rather skilled with my glaive as well."

[drayen]

The northerner has set down his shield against his leg and is tying up his hair and stuffing it down the back of his shirt. "I am Vilgeirr Isleifson, a member of the Ulfen Guard. I am as you see me."

[SlyJohnny]

Ios smiles. "I've hired Ulfen bodyguards before and always found them solid men who take the job seriously. It's only to the good we have you. You, too, Garren. Your deity and mine have long been allies, despite Shelyn's limited focus, and I hope the same will be true of us."

When Leander draws back his hood, Ios looses the smile and gains a poker face. He takes in the comment about healing, and you can see him silently joining the dots. "I see. You react badly to positive energy, then. It was wise to keep your silence back in the village. he murmurs.

His smile returns as quickly as it left. Still! You did right to be open with us about it, and I've had queerer travelling companions. You've naught to worry over, my brand of healing won't harm any kind of darkblood. I'll keep you alive... or, well. Walking and talking, at any rate. Hah!" he laughs, and slaps Leander on the back.

[Lord Of Mantas]

As the party made its way to the outskirts of the village and began the introductions among themselves, Iker piped up in turn, addressing Garren first. "Shelyn? Really, now? That's definitely a happy coincidence - I've never been exceptionally religious, but I've been known to send her a prayer from time to time. I can appreciate a god who knows how to properly exalt art and music - and good luck, which I've been in need of for a while now." At Ios and Leander's conversation, he cocked his head confusedly before speaking. "I'm no expert on magic, so I have no idea what you mean by positive energy or dark-blooded, but for now I'll just trust that you'll elaborate if we absolutely need to know."

He then addressed the group as a whole. "Anyway, as I said back in the town hall, my name's Iker, and until recently I was just another ordinary member of a Varisian merchant caravan. But a few months ago, bandits attacked us, and they made off with something precious to me. I managed to track them down, but they'd sold it off before I found them, and I've been chasing it down evr since." Iker gestured at Vilgeirr. "Vilgeirr and I have actually been traveling in the same caravan for a while, ever since I stopped in Oparra."

"As for what I can do, well... I'm no wizard or cleric, nor am I a front-line fighter like Vilgeirr. But I'm as nimble as any acrobat, have a breadth of knowledge of local legends from all over Golarion - side effect of all that traveling, you understand - and I can use sweet words to sooth flaring tempers if the going gets rough. I'm also a fairly decent tracker; one of my uncles was a hunter and he used to take me along."

"Of course, where I really shine is here." Iker drew his pistol, holding it up to the light. It was old, scratched, and dulled with age, but a cursory inspection readily revealed that it had, at one point, been quite the masterwork. The stock was made of mahogany, and carved into the shape of a dragon with brass accents, while the barrel and flintlock were made of now-dulled steel, molded into rather ornate designs. "I call her Heartseeker, and she's been with me ever since I was a lad of ten years. Of course, I'm no master gunslinger, not yet, but... I'll be honest with you all. As much as I want to track down my family heirloom, I also want to travel the world, not just as part of a caravan, but of my own accord, and see all that there is to see." He gave a rather wistful sigh. "And maybe, hopefully, one day, I'll find the man who first gave her to me, and I'll finish my training. Until then, however, I am still a very good shot, and I practice every day - well, not absolutely every day, but most days in the week. I expect I must practice four or five times a week, at least four or five, only some weekends... like last weekend, there really wasn't the time, so that moved the average down a bit. I should say it's definitely a solid four days' practice every week... at least. I mean, I reckon I could hit that tree over there... the one just behind that hillock, not the big hillock, the little hillock on the left. You can see the three trees, the third one from the left and back a bit - that one - I reckon I could hit that four times out of five...on a good day. Say, with this wind... say, say seven times out of ten."

Whew! That turned out longer than I thought it would.

You know what they say, though - it's not a gaming session until someone quotes Monty Python (http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0136.html).

[daelrog]

Leander smiled slightly at the others' reactions. No shouts of contempt, no vitriol, and no swords leveled at him. "Oh worry not, I am alive as any of you, my heart beats, my lungs breathe. It is merely that death has kissed me more firmly than others. As for what you all should know... I am a sorcerer, though you'll see no bolts of lightning or great fires from my fingertips. Only a few tricks here and there."

[drayen]

Vilgeirr looks to each of his companions, "Today will be a doddering old man if we stand here ere much more. We head down the road out of Heldren. Look out for signs of a struglle. If we are lucky, we might even find the corpses."


Survival: [roll0]

[Jötunn]

The group heads out and down the south road from Heldren. Near the forest, the temperature grows noticeable colder. The road ahead is littered with debris and the corpses of slain humans and horses. A carriage stands in the roadway, its team of horses missing or cut free, while another overturned carriage lies sprawled and broken next to the tree line. To the south, more bodies have fallen around what appears to be a statue of ice. A trail of snow leads deeper into the forest.

Sorry, taken me a little while. I said I'd post after work but I got home and just crashed.

[Lord Of Mantas]

A grim look on his face, Iker surveyed the wreckage, trying his best not to let the cold get to him. "Such a waste of life..."

"Well, no sense wasting time. Let's get to work."

With that, Iker went to each of the coaches, and then to the statue of ice, carefully examining the surroundings for any clues or tracks.

Perception: [roll0]
Survival: [roll1]

...and they're both awful.

[Jötunn]

The overturned carriage has already been looted, and two young, well-dressed ladies lie inside cold stone dead. There are broken chests and boxes strewn across the ground. The other carriage, however is more ornate and bears the marks of Taldan heraldry. There is damage from many arrows fire in the battle that took place here, and a spear has been wedged between the handles of the carriage doors to hold them closed. Lastly, the ice statue appears to be the remains of the Taldan captain tasked with escorting Lady Argentea from Zimar back to Oppara, a gruesome statue mostly encased in ice. He is very clearly dead, frozen pieces of him carved away that now lie in slowly melting ice at his feet.

Mmmm... gruesome.

[drayen]

Vilgeirr stops when they first see the overturned vehicles ahead. He begins to rummage through his backpack, pulling out one throwing axe after another. He affixes two in the back of his belt, two in the front of his belt and the fifth he keeps in his hand. He inspects the scene, counting the bodies, looking for anything of use (especially any cold iron weapons) and checking for any bodies of creatures other than human. He also looks over the carriages, struggling to maintain his detachment at the sight of the two dead women. Shaking his head, he moves off and begins to make a slow circuit of the killing ground looking for signs of passage left by the attackers as they departed


Perception: [roll0]
Survival: [roll1]

[SlyJohnny]

Ios looks grim as he surveys the scene. "Stay close to each other. It looks quiet, but we don't know." He wanders towards the carriages, staying in the center of the group so he can bless everyone if necessary. "This was a strong force that did this. Well-led. Most of it's looted, but we might retrieve some of those lost horses, they may not have wandered far. It'd hasten our pursuit. Are you a tracker, Garren?" he muses.

He balks as Iker steps over to the statue, but calms down once the man has done so and survived the experience and the statue hasn't sprung into lifeless motion to murder everyone. He frowns at the closed carriage, staring fixedly at the deliberate placement of the spear.

He murmurs a short prayer and motions the others over, removes a ball of twine and a coil of rope from his pack, and then pads over to the door as quietly as he can. He gestures for silence, listening against the door, and then ties the twine around one of the handles and the rope below the point of the spear. He creeps back to the group, handing the coil of rope to Leander. He intones another short prayer for Abadar's guidance over each of the group in turn, first Leander, and lastly Vilgeir.

Then he stands at the limit of his rope, and unfastens his backpack and lets it fall to the ground. He hopes these preparations are unnecessary, but if something genuinely is amiss, he'll likely need to move quickly. Then he nods to Leander and makes a pulling motion with his free hand, indicating that he should pull the spear free. Assuming he does so, Ios pulls on the length of twine to tug the door open.

Casting guidance on myself, expending to boost Awareness roll: [roll0] and then guidance on everyone before we open the door from a distance as described.

[Lord Of Mantas]

As he took in the sights of the scene of the crime, Iker choked back a sob of regret and disgust, especially as he came to the sight of the frozen captain. Thankfully, he was distracted enough to take his mind off of such things as Ios motioned the group to come back to the more ornate carriage. Initially confused as to the aim of the cleric, Iker did a double take as he began fiddling with the spear, now realizing how out of place it was.

That's not random - that spear was placed there deliberately to keep the door closed. But why?

As Ios tied off a couple lengths of rope to the spear and shrugged off his pack, Iker finally realized his intention.

I guess we're about to find out.

Shrugging off his own pack, Iker loaded his gun with one of his regular bullets, leveling it at the door and preparing to aim.

Readying an action to open fire if a hostile creature leaps out.

[daelrog]

Leander took a slightly less emotional look at the devastation around them. He was not enjoying it per se, but he was methodically checking over the bodies, particularly those who were frozen.

Knowledge Arcana to see if he can tell anything about the magic used
[roll0]

[Jötunn]

As Vilgeirr searches, it appears that the bodies have already been looted of anything value - all except the Taldan captain, whose frozen hand clasping a well-made longsword of common steel, all in one chunk of ice, lies on the ground. Beneath the ice surrounding the captain, it appears his breastplate decorated heavily with Taldan heraldry is still intact, but for both it would take a while to unfreeze and then you would have to deal with the body. It's very clear where some, at least, of the attackers left as there is a trail of snow leading directly into the forest to the southwest.

Meanwhile, Leander is unable to determine a particular magical type that the ice shards and frozen captain emanate. They're evidently magical, but not in the same realm as that conjured by a learned caster.

As the spear is tugged free, horrid moans emanate from the carriage and two obviously dead guards tumble out and start shuffling towards the nearest members of the group - that is, Leander and Ios. Iker, ready for whatever was coming, fires off a shot as the action starts which buries itself in Leander's zombie to little effect.

Leander, the effect appears to be [Su]. Just didn't know how to say it fluff-wise.

For the two closest members, it wasn't clear where people where except that you were all probably going to be standing well away from the carriage as it was being opened, so I randomly generated it.

Initiative!

Garren: [roll0]
Iker: [roll1]
Ios: [roll2]
Leander: [roll3]
Vilgeirr: [roll4]
Zombies: [roll5]

Iker's attack roll: [roll6]
Damage roll: [roll7]

EDIT: We're going with group initiative for speed's sake, so everyone but Ios (sorry Ios!) can go now. Also, everyone is freely within charge range/attack range, but you're all also in charge range by the zombies (i.e. within 30ft)

[Lord Of Mantas]

Iker cursed as, while the bullet found its way home, it saw fit to bury itself in the zombie's side, doing nothing to stop the shambling monstrosity. Quickly, he grabbed another dose of powder from his horn and a bullet from his bandolier, packing them down before leveling his gun at the same zombie as before. He exhaled...

Gah! I don't understand - I'm aiming right at the target! Why can't I hit it!

Calm yourself, young one. Throwing a tantrum won't improve your aim.

But I don't get it! Until now I've been hitting all the targets without a sweat, and I'm trying to stay perfectly still! I'm doing everything you showed me, and yet I'm not hitting it! It's not that much farther away.

*sigh* You still have much to learn, Iker. There is a lot more to hitting a target than just pointing your gun at it. Here, let me show you.

Now, as you remember, never point a gun at anything you don't intend to shoot - this is a delicate piece of equipment, and can easily discharge and hit someone. Always assume the gun is loaded, even if you know it isn't. Now, stand with your feet apart, your left a pace in front of your right. Cup your right hand with your left - you're going to use that to keep the gun stable - and make sure neither of your thumbs are in the way of the flintlock. Keep your right arm straight, your left arm flexed just a little - that'll absorb the force when the gun goes off. Now, this is the important bit. Aim carefully, take a breath, exhale...

And fired.

So before I make my rolls, I have to apologize to Jotunn. Totally mea culpa, but it turns out my pistol should apparently deal 1d8+1 damage, not just 1d8. Not that it matters that much, since I doubt the zombie only has 2 HP. I have edited my character sheet to reflect this new information.

Anyhoo, opening fire!

Current Grit:​ 2/2

Move Action to reload pistol (Rapid Reload feat).
Attack (Leander's Zombie): [roll0] -2 for every 20 feet the zombie is away from me.
Damage: [roll1], +1 if the zombie is within 30 feet (Point Blank Shot feat).

[drayen]

Vilgeirr stands at the edge of the trees, looking at the trail of snow as it wends off into the forest. At the sounds of moaning, he whips around to see two corpses shamble out of one of the carriages. The loud report of Iker's pistol causes the northerner to start. Seeing that his shot had no effect, the guardsman charges the nearest of them swinging the axe in his hand down in an overhead chop.


Charging melee attack: [roll0]
Slashing damage: [roll1]

[daelrog]

When the two zombies burst out, Leander took an step back. As he saw what was coming for him though, his shoulders relaxed and he held his hand forward, bright energy forming from his fingertips and arcing towards the zombie coming for him.

"Disrupt Undead."

Casting disrupt undead.
Ranged Touch Attack
[roll0]
Damage
[roll1]

[Jötunn]

Iker unloads another bullet into the zombie, striking it in the same shoulder and compounding the damage - the combined damage nearly rips the arm off. Then Leander fires his ray of luminescent energy at the zombie, burning away at the undead flesh as it collapses to the ground, dead. More dead. Less undead.

Meanwhile, Vilgeirr moves to shield Ios from the second oncoming zombie, and his axe blow strikes, and hard, followed by Garren and Razzah joining in the fray with bow and fangs. Garren's arrow fires wide, but Razzah brings it down with the efficiency of a practiced hunter.

Garren attack: [roll0]
Garren damage: [roll1]
Razzah bite attack: [roll2]
Razzah damage: [roll3]

...aaand Razzah does just enough damage to take the second one down.

[daelrog]

With the fight over, Leander looked thoughtful as the stench of the burning flesh reached his nostrils. "They certainly took their time setting up that trap. Most curious really. I would say it means the attack was planned out, but I admit it's just as likely they have a dark sense of humor. I wonder which." He looked to the tracks. "I believe it's time we moved forward."

[SlyJohnny]

Ios had started to stumble backwards and draw a long knife from his belt, but both the assailants are destroyed before the iron clears the sheath. He nods his thanks to Garren for intercepting the creature that rushed him. "Well done, everyone. Well handled. Of course, the least satisfactory part of this affair is that whoever animated these two is aware they were destroyed, and therefore that we are on her trail."

Ios steps over the corpses and heads into the caravan, searching it thoroughly for anything that the attackers might have missed, including hidden compartments. After that, he searches the zombies themselves.

"Garren, can you track the horses that might've run off? Will they have run far? Apart from how valuable good horses are, we'd gain more time on horseback than we'd lose tracking them down."

[Lord Of Mantas]

The report of a second shot, the crunch of an axe burying itself in a corpse, the vok of Leander's magic striking another, the tearing of claws, and the battle was over just as quickly as it has started. Blowing away the smoke from the end of his pistol, Iker took a fresh dose of powder and another bullet, packing them down into the gun before stowing it in its holster.

Just in case. From this point onward, we're officially on guard.

He made a move to go searching inside the caravan, but was thwarted by Ios, who promptly took that duty upon himself. At his suggestion of finding the horses, Iker frowned.
"Not that I disagree about the value of a good horse, but the attack happened hours ago. They could be anywhere by now, and we need to try and find the Lady and her captors as quickly as possibly. I vote we continue down that snow trail as soon as you're done in there."

[drayen]

"Agreed, Iker Gunman. Besides the trail leads off of the road into the forest. Being astride horses will only ensure we meet the business end of every branch, not just the low hangers." Says Vilgeirr as he moves to the iceman.

"Let's just get this gathered up." So saying, the viking walks over to the arm clasping the fine longsword and begins to chop off the arm at the wrist with his ax. That done, he picks it up and stows the sword in his backpack.

He stops for a moment to gauge everyone else's reactions before motioning to the rest of the corpse. "Be a shame to leave a valuable breastplate behind. Up to all of you if you think it disrespectful."

[Jötunn]

Garren lets you know that the horses has been gone since the night before, when the attack happened. While he could, in theory track them down, Iker is probably right.

Vilgeirr steadies the already-dismembered hand before striking it hard. It shatters, leaving the blade clear of debris. It seems well-used, but well-made and well taken care of, and it should serve him well if he chose to use it.

Ios finds that the bandits appear to have missed a small jewelry box under the seat of the carriage in which they imprisoned the zombies. Opening it, he finds Lady Argentea's signet ring, as well as a pair of earrings, a set of pearl-inlaid bracelets, a number of gold and silver necklaces, one with a pendant of sapphire, all of which would sell for a rather large sum - probably more than anyone but Ios would likely have seen over the course of their lifetimes.

If I haven't said before, it's a Masterwork Longsword.

I'm going to assume Ios would automatically appraise something like this on sight, so:
Ios' Appraise: [roll0]

You think that the contents of the jewelry box might be worth something around 360g in total.

[SlyJohnny]

Ios smiles sadly at the beautiful objects he's unearthed, delighted as ever to be handling finely crafted items worth a lot of money, but concious of the fact that he'll have to return them to their lawful owner at some point. Unless she's dead, of course, which is a terrible thing for one to hope. Greed vies against duty for neither the first nor the last time in his life.

He sings a short hymn about the mysteries of The First Vault and runs a fingertip over his eyelids, casting Detect Magic. He scrutinises the jewelry and the carriage, and then wanders outside to the others, the box clasped in his hands, showing off his find. "Exquisite, are they not? I could fetch nearly four hundred gold for them."

He peers about him and then wanders the ruined battlefield, looking for any other sign of magic, in particular examining the guard captain's sword. He also inspects the corpses to see if any are still wearing an intact set of leather armor.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Iker leveled a glare at Ios as he declared the value of the articles, crossing his arms. "And I'm sure the owner would be more than happy to relieve you of that sum twice over when she discovered that you'd sold them. And I'd bet anything they belong to the Lady, so that just makes it worse." He chuffed with frustration as Ios continued poking around the battlefield but, eventually realizing that the others didn't plan on moving for another while, took one last look around for clues.

Perception (to spot anything heretofore unmentioned): [roll0]
Survival (to spot any tracks heretofore unseen): [roll1]

[SlyJohnny]

Ios returns Iker's glare cooly, a twitch of irritation flashing over his face, before his warm smile returns. He laughs.

"You need not remind me of my responsibilities as a honest man, Iker. Though it is jarring to feel what it's like to be on the receiving end of that kind of scolding! I'm suddenly getting flashbacks to a hundred self-righteous lectures I've inflicted on parishioners and tax-dodgers over the years. Hah!"

He thinks for a moment, then removes the signet ring from the box, and closes it. "Tell you what. The signet ring could be useful to us and I'd like to have it to hand, but to set your mind at rest, why don't you keep watch over the rest? You can return it to Lady Argentea when we find her yourself. So it is Judged?" he asks, handing the box over to the marksman.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Ios returns Iker's glare cooly, a twitch of irritation flashing over his face, before his warm smile returns. He laughs.

"You need not remind me of my responsibilities as a honest man, Iker. Though it is jarring to feel what it's like to be on the receiving end of that kind of scolding! I'm suddenly getting flashbacks to a hundred self-righteous lectures I've inflicted on parishioners and tax-dodgers over the years. Hah!"

He thinks for a moment, then removes the signet ring from the box, and closes it. "Tell you what. The signet ring could be useful to us and I'd like to have it to hand, but to set your mind at rest, why don't you keep watch over the rest? You can return it to Lady Argentea when we find her yourself. So it is Judged?" he asks, handing the box over to the marksman.

Iker's glare cooled considerably as Ios spoke once more, and as Ios moved to hand over the box his gaze was neutral once more. "So it is Judged," he responded in kind. "I... apologize," he said, rubbing the back of his head ashamedly. "We had that happen to us once, back when I lived in the caravan - a recent hire got his hands on a rather valuable statue and fenced it before running off with the gold. We never did find him... or the statue, for that matter."

[drayen]

Receiving no response from any of the others, Vilgeirr shrugs and moves away from the captain's corpse. He heads over to the trail of snow leading into the forest. "The day marches on and so should we."

[Lord Of Mantas]

Iker turned and followed Vilgeirr. "Agreed."

[SlyJohnny]

Ios nods and falls into step behind the others. He makes sure that someone claims the torso that still wears the breastplate, mumbling something about a spell he can cast later to purify it, though for some reason he doesn't readily volunteer to carry it, only doing so if noone else will.

[daelrog]

Leander too was content to leave, not having any issue with taking the breastplate, but far from being the strongest member of the party had no intention of carrying it himself. He said nothing during Ios and Iker's exchange, though watched it curiously trying to understand both men better from it.

He tried to march in the middle of the group, if asked stating he didn't want to make the same folly as before and fight from the front.

[Jötunn]

One of you claims the breastplate, along with the torso and the burden is shared amongst those who could carry it. As the trail enters the full expanse of the Border Wood, the trail passes through a small clearing among the taller trees before continuing uphill and out of sight. A large chest lies half-buried in the snow, apparently dropped or discarded by those who hastily passed this way. Snow falls around you, and clouds block out the summer sun that you presume is still there, somewhere.

You guys find no separate trails beyond those of the horses, and those of the bandits that follows the snow. None of the guards have anything worth taking - most have even been stripped of their armor and weapons before the bandits left. You detect no magic beyond what remains in the ice surrounding the dead captain.

Traveling Conditions:
The snowfall reduces visibility by half, imposing a -4 penalty on Perception checks and ranged attacks at a distance of more than 15 feet. The temperatures inside the winter pocket are cold (approximately 30F during the day and 10F at night.

Every hour spent in the wintry conditions requires a Fortitude save (DC15, +1 per previous check) to avoid taking 1d6 points of nonlethal damage. Those who have taken nonlethal damage from exposure suffer from hypothermia (treat as fatigued), and if this condition is not remedied they also suffer from frostbite. You secured cold weather outfits before leaving Heldren so you receive a +5 bonus on Fortitude saves against exposure to the weather while adventuring in the forest.

Additionally, within the edges of the Border Wood, 6 inches of snow cover the ground, reducing overland travel rates by half. During combat, entering a snow-covered square costs 2 squares of movement. Snowshoes can significantly reduce these penalties... but nobody in Heldren makes or sells them.

[drayen]

Vilgeirr stops when first he spies the chest. Looking back, he moves back past the group until he finds a small tree, or best a sapling, which he quickly chops down with a throwing ax. Stripping off the branches, approaches the chest with caution. The northerner stabs the stick into the snow checking for traps before placing his foot into that exact spot. Speaking quietly to the others he says, "If any of you have experience with locks or traps, follow me. Place your feet into my footsteps. Do not step anywhere else. The rest should consider waiting back here in case the chest or this area is trapped."

If he reaches the chest without incident, he pokes all the way around the chest looking for traps. Once he feels that he has thoroughly checked the immediate area, he tells whoever else came forward, "I will stay here with you if you need me. Otherwise I can move back to the others or move ahead on this trail in case there are those waiting to make an ambush."


I am making several perception rolls in case you need multiple checks. I will make my first survival check as well for the weather.

Survival: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]
Perception: [roll2]
Perception: [roll3]
Perception: [roll4]
Perception: [roll5]

I cannot see my character sheet on mythweavers, so I am going from memory on my perception modifier.

EDIT: Wow! Those are pretty good for such a low modifier. Of course, I am sure that only two of them might succeed. At best.

[daelrog]

Fortitude Check
[roll0]
Perception Check for an ambush
[roll1]

It was cold, a kind of deep cold that at first brought back memories of his life long ago, and then surpassed even that. In sunk in, gnawed away at Leander, but he was more than a normal man, and he moved with determination through the snow.

"I have a hard time believing whatever is in the chest will do us any good. Unless fate has laid before us snowshoes, or cold iron, even diamonds will only weigh us down!" He called out after his companion, choosing to stay behind. Stranger things had happened, but after the carriage he found another trap far more likely.

[Lord Of Mantas]

"It's still worth checking, I think," Iker said, his breath misting in the cold air. He rubbed his mitten-clad hands together and drew his arms in close to shield himself from the cold. "It may very well have something useful inside. Worst case scenario, we can always come back when we're finished here."

[SlyJohnny]

Ios nods. The set-up screams "bait for a trap", but the possibility of abandoned loot is appealing, and the burly northerner seems to know what he's doing. He keeps to the centre of the group, and to the cover of a tree, if he can.

[Jötunn]

As Vilgeirr gets closer, you spot a taut rope leading out of the snowdrift, leading back towards the party and high into the trees. You have time to shout a warning, if you like.

[Lord Of Mantas]

As Iker took a closer look at the chest, he spotted something poking out of the snowbank...

"Vilgeirr, get back! It's trapped!" Iker indicated a rope, going up from the bank high into the trees and over the party.

[SlyJohnny]

Ios swears as Iker calls out his warning. He immediately grabs for his holy symbol, raising the golden key above his head and beseeching Abadar for his blessing. "It's likely an ambush as well. Watch the treeline!"

Casting Bless on the group as soon as the warning is called. Also, are we rolling fort saves yet, or have we not been out here an hour?

[drayen]

At Iker's warning, Vilgeirr carefully began moving back from the chest, being sure to step in his own boot prints.

[daelrog]

"I'll have to remember that. Speak urgently to get the man's attention." Leander jested, assuming that Iker had spotted something. "Now, I'll have to ask each of you in advance to forgive my presumption, but I feel compelled to give something a try. Ahem."

Leander cupped his hand towards his mouth to help his voice carry further.

"Goodwill and blessings to whoever has left this trapped chest for wanderers like us to find! We are in search for a noblewoman, taken against her will not an hour's walk from here! I am positive that we can come to some sort of understanding that does not require anyone to die!" He spoke the last part just as cordially and friendly as the rest. There was the part of him that preferred to handle things with a bit of restraint and class, but moreso he was not convinced the five of them could challenge one of the infamous Winter Witches in combat.

Diplomacy roll
[roll0]

[Jötunn]

The trees rustle, and the wind blows, and nothing happens.

[SlyJohnny]

Ios looks sheepish. "Of course. Our pursuers have a long lead on us. Best we check the chest, and move on."

[Lord Of Mantas]

As a minute passed with nothing but the sound of the wind and the trees, which was subsequently broken by Ios, Iker cleared his throat. "Before that happens, perhaps it would be best if everyone got out from under where that rope leads to."

"As for the rope itself, I have an idea. If we grab onto it, hold it in place while we cut it, and then tie it to something, we might be able to avoid triggering the trap at all." Iker then carefully approached the chest once more, looking for anything the rope could be tied to.

[roll0]

[daelrog]

Well then, that was a wasted effort.

"I will wait for where the tracks are fresh." He kept his polite demeanor, though there was a slight edge to it now. "We don't want to spend any more time in this cold than we need to."

[SlyJohnny]

Ios touches Iker's arm, murmurs a prayer, and then steps out of the way. Both to give the gunman space to work, and also to be out of the range of the trap if the man's confidence is ill-placed.

Casting Guidance on Iker.

[Lord Of Mantas]

After waiting until everyone was out of the general area where the rope lead to, Iker called out. "I'm going to cut the rope now. Everyone stand clear!" Carefully approaching the chest from the side, Iker began his work.

In the event that nothing happens that changes this plan, Iker will do the following, in order.

1) Approach the chest, looking out for anything besides the rope, as well as for what the rope might be connected to.
Perception (for the above): [roll0]

2) Grab the rope, and after grabbing it firmly, cut it with his dagger.

3) If able, he will tie it to something else.

4) Finally, he will open the chest slowly from the side.

[Jötunn]

Iker quite simply and safely cuts the rope while holding onto the other end, although he is nearly dragged off by the other end of the rope - it's quite heavy. He does manage to tie it down to a convenient tree branch, however and then moves to open the chest to reveal... nothing. It's empty.

[Lord Of Mantas]

A minute of silence passed as Iker stared into the empty treasure chest with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance.

"...you know, usually in the stories, trapped chests have something in them. Even if it's just a note saying, 'Ha ha, fooled you!'" He stood up. "Well, no sense staying any longer. We've spent enough time on this as it is." Without another word, he pivoted on his heels and continued down the snow trail, his boots crunching into the deep snow.

[daelrog]

"They intended to kill you, not play a prank. Lucky for us they were in too much in hurry to use more zombies, or put a spell on the chest. Unfortunately for us, they are in a hurry."

Leander began to march.

[drayen]

Vilgeirr nods his assent and moves forward.


Survival to follow the trail: [roll0]
Passive perception: 11

[Jötunn]

You follow the trail with ease, the footprints leading further to the southwest and deeper into the Border W The snow becomes increasingly deep in this part of the forest, where a windswept gully carves a path through a tree-covered ridge. A soft cascade of snow falls from an overhead branch, hissing softly as it strikes the ground.

Despite Iker's eagle eyes, not even he notices in time as a snowbank shifts and a silver-white fanged serpent armed with two claws and roughly the size of a human leaps out at Leander as he passes by.

Perception checks:
Garren: [roll0]
Iker: [roll1]
Ios: [roll2]
Leander: [roll3]
Vilgeirr: [roll4]

Sorry Leander, the tactics for the creature in the adventure path specifically state that it waits for the person who seems the most vulnerable and unarmored. Attack rolls are in the OOC

[SlyJohnny]

Ios is trying to watch for a probable ambush, but when the attack does come, he is staring down at his feet in fascination. Snow is such a curious thing, when one thinks about it. His family left their ethnic home for warmer climes many generations ago, and he's not had much experience with the stuff. He hopes it won't ruin his shoes, they're soft leather, and-

The soft 'crump' from behind him causes him to whirl around and curse his wandering mind. At least he recovers quickly enough. "Release him!" he barks, raising his holy symbol. Intoning a hymn that promises damnation for the enemies of civilisation, he channels his holy energy into the creatures mind and imparts a glimpse of how Abadar feels about beasts that ambush lawful travellers.

Casting Cause Fear on this critter. If successful, [roll0] rounds of Frightened. Otherwise, one round of Shaken.

Also, rolling the appropriate knowledge [roll1] to figure out what the hell this thing is. On the offchance it has a language and I speak that language, I'll use my Command ability to order it to flee instead of burning a spell.

[Lord Of Mantas]

As the merry band of warriors wormed its way deeper into the woods, the cold crept deeper and deeper into Iker's skin. Tucking his glove-clad hands into his coat, the Varisian gunslinger let out a chatter of teeth, his breath turning to mist in the frosty air.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a slight shift in a nearby snowbank.

What...

He kept his eye on it for several seconds more, but all was still.

The cold is really gettin to me. Must have just been the wind.

Then a terrifying roar split the air, and from where the shift in the snowbank had come, a giant white serpent leapt from its hiding place, sinking its fangs into Leander. Quickly, Iker whirled around and fired off a shot at the monster... only to see the shot go wide, the Varisian letting of a string of colorful curses in response.

Let me guess. The DC was 25, wasn't it. :smallannoyed:

If he is not already within that range, Iker will move to within 20' of the serpent and fire. Within this range, firearm attacks resolve vs. Touch AC, and he gains +1 on attacks due to Point Blank Shot - however, since he is firing into melee, he receives a -4 penalty to attack. Additionally, he will spend 1 grit to activate Up Close and Deadly, dealing an additional 1d6 precision damage if he hits the target.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage:[roll1]
UCaD: [roll2]

...you know, the RNG has really been hating on me lately across all of my games, and I have no idea why. All I can say is, it's getting old. Fast.

[daelrog]

Possibilities ran through Leander's head, but he did not have any useful spells that didn't require his movement. Losing his veneer of civility he tried to break free of the creature.

Combat Maneuver Check to try to break free
[roll0]

[drayen]

At the sound of movement from behind, Vilgeirr struggles in the deep snow to get turned around. Seeing the creature attacking Leander, he plods to the left of Iker and strikes out with his spiked shield.


cold iron spiked shield melee attack: [roll0]

damage: [roll1]

[Jötunn]

Ios' spell seems to wash over the creature with no effect, and Leander fails to struggle out of its grip.

You don't know quite what it is, but you can definitely see a resemblance to a dragon. It shows none of the intelligence of its distant kin, however.Creature's will save vs Ios' Cause Fear: [roll]1d20+5

[SlyJohnny]

Ios winces as Leander collapses after the creature sinks it's fangs into him. He points at the sorcerer with the heavy golden key he wears. "Get it off of him! I'll keep him alive!"

A burst of negative energy erupts outwards from the short merchant's body, tearing about him like thin, gray strips of paper or ribbon, moving around as if being carried on the wind. They pass swiftly over both the sinuous frame of the attacking creature and the bodies of the party, but they don't seem to cause any harm. A few of the ribbons drift over Leander and become animated with purpose, streaking into the open puncture wounds.

Ios backs away from the creature through the snow, moving away from the opposite side to where his comrades are rushing in to attack.

Channel Negative Energy to heal, Leander regains conciousness on a result of 3 or more: [roll0]

Moving 20 ft (my speed is higher than average due to Trade domain) away from the creature.

[drayen]

Apparently missing the creature with his first attack, Vilgeirr strikes again with his spiked shield.


Cold Iron Spiked Shield Melee Attack: [roll0]

Damage: [roll1]

[Dayaz]

Garren frown deepens, until the attack on Leander snaps him out of his thoughts. Pointing, Garren directs Razzah at the serpent with a hissed "Attack."

As Razzah charged the creature, Gareen took careful aim at it and fired.

[spoiler=Mechanics]
Garren shoots into melee (uh oh)
Attack: [roll0] (minus whatever it is for shooting into melee w/o the precise shot feat)
Confirmation: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

Razzah charges the Serpent! He bites at it.
Attack: [roll3]
Confirmation(lol): [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

[Jötunn]

Garren fires a shot and misses, while Razzah's claws cut deep into the creatures side. Having shaken Leander limp, it begins dragging him away but is struck by Vilgeirr's retaliatory blow.

Grapple:[roll0] vs CMB of 11 EDIT: Ouch, so close. I double checked the rules to be sure but that is still a success for the creature.

If successful it will drag Leander 10 ft through the snow towards the trees. However, it prefers to keep its meat fresh apparently so it doesn't attempt to damage Leander.

drayen, I've counted your attack above as an opportunity attack so you get to take another turn. That means everyone but Ios can take a turn, including Leander who is woken by Ios' healing. Razzah also gets an opportunity attack, but i don't think anyone else does.

[Lord Of Mantas]

"Oh no you don't!" Quick as a whip, Iker tamped another dose of bullet and powder into his pistol, and opened fire once again.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

So... close... to a critical...

[Jötunn]

The creature screeches in pain, badly injured.

[daelrog]

Leander's eyes opened, feeling the negative energy wash over him, at that moment thankful he hadn't kept his nature a secret. Once again, he tried to struggle free of the creature's grasp, his body too restricted to try using any magic, something he'd consider in the future.

Combat Maneuver check
[roll0]

[drayen]

Vilgeirr steps forward, closing the distance to the fleeing creature. Bringing the edge of his shield down in a hard strike, he attempts to break it's neck.


Improved cold iron spiked shield melee attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Dayaz]

As the creature attempts to flee, Razzah snaps at it with his fangs.

Seeing the beast attempting the carry off Leander, Garren snarls angrily, and charges, dropping his bow and drawing his glaive. Reaching the distance he needs, Garren swings with all his might, hoping to end the creature.

"Die, Beast!" He snaps, and hears an answering cry from his companion and Razzah leaps after the serpent to bite it again.


Razzah's AoO
Attack: [roll]1d20+2[roll]
Confirmation: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Garren drops his bow as a free action, and draws his glaive as part of his charge.
Attack (Charge+PA): [roll2] plus another +1 if it's Large or Bigger
Confirmation: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4] +1 if it's Large of Bigger

[Jötunn]

As the serpent moves away, Razzah snaps at the creature with his fangs, and Iker fires his pistol into the creature, leaving it dead on the ground and releasing Leander from its grip. The forest is quiet once again, apart from the distant sound of birds and the wind through the trees.

[daelrog]

Leander winced in pain as he pushed off the dead lizard. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them, calming his own nerves. "That would have been a poor way to go." He stood up, brushing the snow off of himself. "I think there is far more to this winter than a powerful spell and a kidnapping, if even the beasts of the north have come down this far south."

[Lord Of Mantas]

A flash of powder and smoke, and the serpent lay dead. Briefly feeling a surge of adrenaline course through him, Iker holstered his pistol before hurrying to Leander's side. "Are you alright? That... thing really did a number on you."​

By dealing the killing blow to the serpent, Iker regains one Grit, bringing him back to 2/2.

[SlyJohnny]

Ios reaches down, pulling Leander up by his arm as the man starts to wriggle out from the corpse and rise to his feet. He raises his holy symbol again and channels more negative energy into Leander's wounds, the air coming alive with short-lived streaks of grey.

"The beast took a chunk out of you. Are you recovered enough to travel? We can take a moment for you to regain your breath." Ios says. He eyes the man for any sign of shock, and is impressed with the sorcerer's stoicism, how quickly he recovered. A calm temperament is an asset to one of Leander's species, Ios quietly muses to himself.

After ensuring Leander is well, Ios turns and steps over the dead creature, wandering over to the hole in the snowdrift that it surged out of. He starts to dig into the snow with his gloved hands.

"I know we need to move swiftly, but that creature has the look of a dragon about it. If it's attacked other travellers, maybe it hoards whatever it collects from it's victims. It might even be worth you cutting into it's belly, Garren?"

Channelling energy on Leander up to three more times to get him healed up to full. [roll0] healed.

[drayen]

Vilgeirr looks to the sorcerer being helped out from under the dead creature. Watching the priest drop down to his knees in the snow to look for plunder brings a wry grin to the viking's face. "You must have a measure of dwarf's blood, prestur."

[daelrog]

"No, death has been my constant companion, though that was as close as I've come for some time to meeting her." He shook off the last bit of snow. "The only treasure I am interested in is a friend. I find them hard to come by, and harder to replace. We can search for gold and steel on the way back."

[Jötunn]

The party continues on following the trail through the snow-laden forest. The tracks take a sharp turn to the right before you are met with a rather grisly sight. Feathered bundles, dripping red to stain the pristine snow beneath, and strange fetishes hang from the lowest branches of the trees in this part of the forest, swaying and shifting in the wind. All are stuck through with small pins holding pieces of leather bound around them.

You swear you notice that one of the little white pins has tiny fletching, almost as if it is a arrow made miniscule.
I've already made perception checks for all of you - they are the first five rolls in that OOC post, in alphabetical order by the character's first names. I think I said this before, but I'm always going to do things alphabetically by first names just for clarity - your sheets are in that order in the first post of the OOC, for example.

[SlyJohnny]

"Halt, everyone." Ios says, raising an outstretched hand and tapping the person at the front of the group on the shoulder. "Those bundles are curious, but stay away from them. Those pins aren’t placed randomly. They appear to have fletching, do you see? They’re made to be aerodynamic, like darts. This is another trap for us."

Ios rubs his goatee as he considers their options, one of his fingers twining inside one of the golden rings which hang from it, the chain jingling softly. He extends four fingers, one after the other.

"We can circle about and find another way around. That might take time, particularly if this trap is here specifically to deny us the only nearby path with favourable terrain. Or perhaps someone could climb into the trees and inspect the bundles from above. That might be safe; I think this trap is designed to harm anyone using the trail beneath. Or we could shoot out the cords holding them to the branches, and so cut the bundles down, from a distance and behind cover..." he says, raising his crossbow and checking he has a bolt loaded, "but not knowing how the trap functions, this may not eliminate the threat to us when we pass through."

He raises a fourth and final finger. "Finally, I could create a floating concave disc made of Force and we could take turns sheltering underneath it as we pass through. Force is nearly indestructible, so if all the bundles do is rain needles down on us from above, we’d be safe, but if they’re wrought to fall and then discharge bolts, that won’t help us."

As the others digest this, Ios intones a prayer about the mysteries of Abadar’s vault and trails a finger over his eyelids. He stares fixedly at the clearing and the bundles for a while, and then moves to the edge of the trail and peers over the snowdrift, trying to assess the ease with which the party could simply walk around this obstacle.

Casting Guidance, expending it on making a Knowledge: Religion roll [roll0] to identify if those fetishes are anything spiritually significant or otherwise recognisable, and then casting another Guidance followed by Detect Magic. Will expend the Guidance boost on any Spellcraft test I need to make to identify whatever magic I sense on the bundles. Staring at the area for three rounds to get the full effect, and then checking over the snow ridge to assess how problematic it’d be to just bypass this entirely.

What material are the bundles and fetishes attached to the branches by, incidentally? I'm assuming thin leather strips?

[Jötunn]

The bundles and fetishes do not appear to be magical, and they are crudely made, with indeterminate shapes, although something certainly strikes you as... off. No specific religious or spiritual significance.

Yes, they're attached by the leather strips.

It would be easy enough to travel around the area, although there's no guarantee you'd find the trail again and it would appear that the bundles are somewhat widespread.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Iker came to a halt as Ios called out a warning, listening attentively to the options he put forth. Considering each, he scratched his chin. "All of the suggestions have merit, but I find myself leaning more towards the idea of going around. Between the tracking abilities of Vilgeirr, Garren, and I, I think we could find the trail again easily enough without having to worry about... whatever those are. That said, I've climbed a few trees in my day, so let's see if I can't find out anything..." With that, Iker located the tree closest to the bundles that had decent handholds, and made an attempt to scramble up into its branches...

Climb (to scale the tree nearest to the ones to the bundles that looks like it has decent footholds): [roll0]

[drayen]

Vilgeirr stops at the priest's warning. Looking up at the bundles, he shrugs. "Easy enough to just go around. We're in a forest. Most forests do not have nice easy paths anyway. It should not slow us down by any measure."

[Dayaz]

Garren glances towards the bundles, a thoughtful look on his face. While looking around, he noticed that the fetishes were rather widespread, and grimaced.

"If the fey are involved, we stand a fair chance of loosing our way if we leave the path. While normally I would go around, we do not know what might be waiting for us in the forest, or even if these fetishes are actually marking the safe path through a larger number of traps. Personally, I would vote for the disk, althought the risk of them falling could be a viable one." He explained.

Garren frowned and examined the fetishes more closely. "Give me a minute, I'm trying to think if I've ever heard of the fey using anything like this."


Rolling Knowledge [Nature] to see if Garren can think of what these might be to a fey.
[roll0]

[Jötunn]

As Garren inspects the bundles and fetishes, he realises that, rather gruesomely, the hanging bundles are dead crows, cruelly maimed and tortured before being strung up. The fetishes themselves appear to be adorned torn off feathers and smeared with crow's blood. You all hear a tinkling laugh echo through the forest. "Do you like our art? We spent so much time on it, but we are sad that there are no more silly little birds to play with. You will play with us, won't you?"

More laughs echo through the forest - they have you surrounded. Suddenly, Garren, Ios and Iker feel a prick in their skin and a numbing icy cold begins to spread throughout their bodies.

[roll0] vs Garren's AC of 14
Garren takes 1 nonlethal damage and must make a DC11 Fortitude save or be staggered for 1 round.

[roll1] vs Ios' AC of 11
Ios takes 1 nonlethal damage and must make a DC11 Fortitude save or be staggered for 1 round.

[roll2] vs Iker's AC of 16
Iker takes 1 nonlethal damage and must make a DC11 Fortitude save or be staggered for 1 round.

You might want to be making perception checks, or trying other forms of detection.

[drayen]

At the sound of the crystalline voices, Vilgeirr looks around for their sources.


Perception: [roll0]

[Lord Of Mantas]

Before Iker could make it to the trees, a sudden, numbing prick hit him through the arm, and a brief waver spread through his body...

No! Gotta get through it, gotta get through it!

Gritting his teeth, Iker managed to overpower the cold threatening to spread through his system. Immediately, a hand shot to the slots where he kept the cold iron bullets, tamping it down into his pistol.

"We're surrounded!" he called out, brandishing his weapon as he desperately looked around, trying to locate the source of the eerie, chiming voices.

Fortitude: 18 (see OOC thread)

Iker will load his gun with one of his Cold Iron +1 bullets.

Perception (to locate the source of the voices): [roll0]

[SlyJohnny]

"Dammit, the bundles weren't the trap! We- urgh!"

Ios staggers, his head swimming. He looks around, trying to locate his assailants, as he takes a faltering step towards Garren and Vilgeirr, trying to get in between the two warriors, before dropping down flat into the snow in search of cover.

Failed my Fort save. Staggered.

Move action to make Perception check. [roll0]
Free action to make a 5 foot step (if that's possible in deep snow), and go Prone. +4 ac versus ranged attacks.

[daelrog]

"May I inquire the names of those who wish to play with us? Can you truly play a proper game without introductions? I think not."

Leander kept his voice even, but his pale eyes darted about, hoping either his eyes would spot them, or his words would lure them out.

Rolls are in the OOC

[Jötunn]

Garren looks around, searching for the source of the voices.

Fortitude Save: [roll0]
Perception Check: [roll1]

You all begin searching for the voices as well. Ios falls prone into the snow, and Leander puts his question to them.

There is more laughter from the trees, and three more arrows shoot out to strike at Leander, Razzah and Vilgeirr. "We are Pym!" "We are Shor!" "We are Vosi!" "We are Rani!" "We are Ici!" "We are Sha!" "We are Gli!" "We are Tura!" "We are so, so many, as numerous as the stars!" The voices come from numerous directions all around the clearing, each one different.

You suspect that the voices might not quite be telling the truth.
Each of you spies a tiny humanoid shape with icy blue skin and white hair flitting through the branches of the nearby forest in a circle around you. They wield tiny bows, and have a quiver of equally small white arrows on their backs.
[roll2] vs Leander's AC of 11.
Leander takes 1 nonlethal damage and must make a DC11 Fortitude save or be staggered for 1 round.

[roll3] vs Razzah AC of 15.
Razzah takes 1 nonlethal damage and must make a DC11 Fortitude save or be staggered for 1 round.

[roll4] vs Vilgeirr AC of 20.
The arrow misses.

[SlyJohnny]

Ios frowns. "That answer was too quick and too pat. They lie. They are few in number. We- there's one! I'll bring it in." he yells, pointing at one of the creatures. He jumps upright, and steps back behind Vilgeir and towards Garren.

He eyes the faerie ruefully. "Come here." he tells it. There's something in his voice that's difficult to deny.

Stand up move action, five foot step free action, using my Command (Approach) Inevitable domain ability on the fae to the south. DC 15 Will save or it has to spend it's next round doing nothing but moving towards me and provoking an AoO from Vilgeirr and hopefully Garren, too.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Iker said nothing, but rather let his weapon do the talking, moving in closer to the easternmost fae before letting out a resounding shot, cold iron speeding through the air toward its supernatural foe...

And going wide, the bullet only just grazing the impish form.

Sorry for the late post - real life's been pretty hectic the past couple of days! Thankfully it'll soon be over. In the meantime...

One move action to try to get within 20 feet of the eastern most fae - if this is not possible, Iker will go as far as allowed under one move.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Also, I will expend a grit point to use Up Close and Personal - if my attack hits, I will deal [roll2] of precision damage; if not, I will deal half that amount (this is fluffed as the bullet just grazing the target).

HP: 11/11
Nonlethal Damage: 1
Grit: 1/2

EDIT: Sweet Jiminy Crickets, that roll was terrible. At least it wasn't a misfire...

[drayen]

Vilgeirr moves to the nearest creature slamming it with his spiked shield.


Cold iron spiked shield melee attack: [roll0]

Damage: [roll1]

[daelrog]

Leander had a dozen things he wished to say, to the Fae as well as his companions but found his head groggy and he stammered in place.

[Jötunn]

Garren draws his bow and aims an arrow at the faerie to the north which strikes a true blow but is somehow shrugged off by the faerie while directing Razzah to protect Ios. The faerie returns fire with its own bow, striking him in the leg and causing numbness to spread up and through his body.

Vilgeirr moves to strike the fairy to the south but misses, before the faerie's eyes glaze over at Ios' command. It flits towards Ios, floating in front of him on gossamer wings before it comes to its senses and scowls with rage. Razzah, standing next to him, takes a swipe but misses.

Iker steps into the treeline and takes a shot at the eastern faerie, grazing it and causing it to shout in pain as it retaliates, firing an tiny arrow that pierces his shoulder, sending the same spreading numbness shooting through his body.

"They have the burning iron, born of smoke and thunder!"

Garren Attack Roll: 1d20+
Damage roll: [roll0]

Will Save: [roll1]

Vilgeirr, you have an AoO vs the faerie that moved past you.

[Lord Of Mantas]

"And there's plenty more where it came from, you little imp!" Trying his best to sound intimidating, and only partway succeeding, Iker tamped down another of the cold iron bullets.

I can't use any more than this - who knows what other supernatural creatures might lie ahead. I have to make it count...

A shot rang out.

One move action to reload the pistol with a Cold Iron +1 Bullet (4/6 remaining).

One standard action to fire his pistol:
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

So... CLOSE... to a critical... :smallfurious:

[drayen]

Vilgeirr snorts at his clumsy attack. As the diminutive faerie sails past, he swings again hoping for true aim.


Cold Iron Spiked Shield Melee Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[SlyJohnny]

Ios nods in approval as Vilgeirr smashes the wretched creature as it passes. He turns to it's companion as it snipes from the treeline to the north.

"You! Skulker, and bandit! Approach, and be judged!" he barks. He steps back as soon as the Command is issued, aiming to lead it through Vilgeirr and Garren, as well as Garren's pet.

Using my Command (Approach) Inevitable domain ability on the fae to the north. DC 15 Will save or it has to spend it's next round doing nothing but moving towards me and provoking an AoO from Vilgeirr and Garren. Move action to back away 20 ft, diagonally to the bottom right, so as to set it up to provoke AoOs. If last rounds step didn't take me within range, will spend the move moving 20ft into position.

[drayen]

OOC: The battle map is blocked here at work, but I think that the faerie came close enough to Garran to threaten with a reach weapon.

Garran drops his bow and pulls out his glaive hoping to be able to deal enough damage to hurt the creature. He swings the polearm trying to cleave the fey in twain. Razzah also swipes again at the tiny fey batting with both claws while snapping at it with it's fangs.


Glaive melee attack: [roll0]
Damage[roll1]

[drayen]

OOC: Probably would have helped to make Razzah's attacks as well.


Claw melee attack: [roll0]
Claw melee attack: [roll1]
Bite melee attack: [roll2]

Claw melee damage: [roll3]
Claw melee damage: [roll4]
Claw melee damage: [roll5]

[Jötunn]

Leander steps forward, hand glowing with a grey aura to strike at the fairy in the party's midst - as his hand touches the unseelie creature you can see that is is visibly frightened. Vilgeirr's shield then slams into it, leaving one side of the faery's body blackened and steaming as though it had been touched with a burning brand. It falls back towards the west before firing a blast of mesmerizing light over some of the group.

Screaming in pain, the fairy in the east fires off one more arrow at Iker before fleeing to the east, cold iron wounds smoking as the iron burns its essence.

The last fairy, badly wounded by Garren's glaive and enchanted by Ios' words, moves dreamlike towards the group, passing by Garren, Razzah and Leander.

Fairy's will save vs Command: [/roll]1d20+1[/roll]

Fairy's attack roll: vs Iker's AC
You know the drill if you're hit.

Leander's attack roll: vs touch AC
Will save if necessary: 1d20+1 nevermind Grave Touch doesn't get a will save. The first fairy that Ios commanded is now shaken.

EDIT: Leander, Ios and Vilgeirr are targeted by the fairy's Color Spray (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/c/color-spray). Make a will save at DC 12, or be unconscious, blinded and stunned for 2d4 rounds, then blinded and stunned for 1d4 rounds and then stunned for just one more round. Sorry, just doing what the AP says to do when they get the chance.

At the end of that, you have two fairies in the middle of the group, both badly injured (one more than the other, admittedly), while another one which is badly injured is fleeing and out of range of all but the keenest archer (70ft or so from Iker).

[SlyJohnny]

Ios blinks rapidly as the spray of colour washes over him, his mind resolute in the face of such trickery not giving into the urge to stare at it and let it overwhelm him. He wades through the snow in the direction of the fae that's retreating, raising his crossbow and snapping off a snot.

"Don't let them escape!"

Move action towards the one that's 70ft from Iker, light crossbow shot, 80 ft range.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Iker barely flinched as the third spike of cold hit him, anticipating the slow chill as it tried to spread through his system and shutting it out. As Ios called out, however, he turned and saw the fae fleeing through the trees. "No choice on my part, I'm afraid, Ios! I've only got four more cold iron bullets, and we don't know what else lies up ahead! My pistol's useless at that range, anyway!" Even as he said this, however, Iker tamped down the third bullet into his gun - just in case. Rather than shooting, however, he dropped into a crouch, ready to dodge whatever attack might come his way.

Move action to reload gun with +1 Cold Iron bullet.

Standard action to take Total Defence (+4 Dodge bonus to AC, for a total of 20).

HP: 11/11
Nonlethal Damage: 3

[drayen]

Garan and Razzah both swipe at the fey as it passes them by.


Glaive melee attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Bite melee attack: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

[drayen]

Vilgeirr draws one of his throwing axes, heaving it at the fleeing fae creature.


Throwing Axe Ranged Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Jötunn]

The well-practised combination of Garren and his companion take the fairy that is weaving its drunken way towards Ios. Unfortunately, Ios and Vilgeirr's own attacks miss their respective targets, while Leander fires a ray of icy cold at the one remaining fairy, as the other one is now well-clear of the party. Unfortunately, the icy beam goes wide and the sprite is free to flee as fast as his little wings can carry him.

[roll0] vs touch
[roll1]

...goshdarnit Leander.

The fairy is now 60ft west of Garren, Vilgeirr and Leander, and about 80ft west of Ios and Iker.

[SlyJohnny]

Ios swears profusely. He struggles to reloads his crossbow with his fingers made stiff and unresponsive by the cold, and turns to snap off another shot at the fairy he can still see.



[roll0] to hit
[roll1] damage

[Jötunn]

Despite his shaking hands, Ios' crossbow bolt flies true and as the fairy wings it's way up through the trees, the bolt strikes and it falls to the snow and is still.

[SlyJohnny]

Ios breathes a heavy sigh of relief as the last creature falls. "Iker, may I have the jewellery box back? Just the box, keep the contents." He trudges through the snow towards the fallen faeries, and gathers them together. He frowns at the thought of how difficult it'll be to treat something so small, but utters a quick prayer or two, then sets about bandaging their wounds with strips of cloth and setting any tiny bones that Vilgeir may have broken in the course of smashing them.

"Can someone aid me, hold them steady? We need them alive, if we're going to question them."

After he's done what he can, he ties the motionless faeries up as best he can using rope or twine, and shuts them firmly in the jewellery box, which he stows away (if Iker hands it over: otherwise, he carries them around grasped in his hand). As he does this, he catches sight of the small puncture wound on his arm, and frowns. "They wouldn't fight grown men with pin-pricks unless they thought they could hurt us. I fear poison." he murmurs.

Without preamble, he induces himself to vomit by sticking his fingers down his throat. This done, he gathers a handful of fresh snow and eats it. "You should all take the precaution of the same. It's a trick a mercenary outrider once taught me... not sure if it works." he croaks, wincing at the cold of the snow in his mouth.

He moves around, inspecting everyone's wounds, seeing what he can do to assist. He eyes the box he clutches with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation.


I assume we're out of combat time, but not sure how many rounds of actions I can politely assume to make at once, so executing standard actions over time, in this order, aided by Guidance:

[roll0] First aid stabilise faerie 1
[roll1] First aid stabilise faerie 2
Tying up both fairies, disarming them and stuffing them in the box.
[roll2] Treat poison (Ios)
[roll3] Treat poison (Vilgeirr)
[roll4] Treat poison (Iker)
[roll5] Treat poison (Garren)
[roll6] Treat poison (Leander)

Aid Another rolls on these would be grand, if you've got good Wisdom.

[Yanisa]

Slyqenee was wandering trough the nearby wilds, she had been lost for the past few days and had no clue where she was. Her curiosity was peeked today when she heard nearby sounds, and even though she didn't know that it was, it sounded like a group of people. And people might mean food, and her stomach agreed that was worth the trouble to find out. As she gets closer to the source of the sound, she suddenly she came eye in eye with a wounded tiny creature. She recognized from stories her tribe shaman told, although she didn't know what it precisely was. The thing she did remembered that catching one meant it would grant her a wish and she was in desperate need of a wish. With a large ROAR she jumped towards the faerie and swing her greatclub at the critter, trying to avoid to kill it because a dead couldn't fulfill wishes, but still intend on knocking it out.

Slyqunee is somewhere on the west, tackling a poor escaping fey thing.

Attack Roll [roll0] for [roll1] nonlethal damage.

[Lord Of Mantas]

As the fight ended, Iker relaxed somewhat in his crouch, taking a few deep breaths. Hands on his knees, he then pushed himself up into standing, brushing himself off before idly twirling his pistol and gingerly hostering it back beneath his cloak. He then turned to Ios as he spoke...


"Iker, may I have the jewellery box back? Just the box, keep the contents."

"One second." Scooping out the jewelry, Iker deposited the contents in his belt pouch before handing over the box to Ios. "Very nice shot, by the way. Didn't think we'd catch that one." As he moved to stabilize the fae and treat the parties wounds, Iker sidled up beside him. "Not sure how much help I can realistically be, but let's see if I can't aid you."

Let's have some Aid Another rolls to give some untrained heal checks.

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


ROAR
As they worked, Iker heard a distant roar, and his head shot up into the air. "Did you all hear that?"

And let's have a Perception check to see what made the noise: [roll6]

[SlyJohnny]

Ios smiles at Iker, finishing up tying the last fairy and tucking it safely away. "You flatter me! But in all truth it was a lucky shot, and the wind favoured me. I am no true marksman, like you. Your weapon is more interesting... I've only even seen a pistola once or twice before, and I never realised they made such a noise when fired. Where did you acquire such a weapon?"

Ios scowls in the direction of the roar when it comes.

"More trouble?"

[roll0] perception to recognise my good buddy Slyq :)

[Lord Of Mantas]

Five minutes earlier, before Slyqenee's appearance...

Iker chuckled at Ios' comment regarding his skills. "You flatter me, Ios, but I only got that good as the result of a lifetime of practice, natural talent notwithstanding. As for the noise, well... The noise is a result of this." Reaching to his side, Iker retrieved his powder horn and opened it up, taking out a pinch of black powder and holding it out for observation. "Rather than a bowstring, air, or a spring, this is the secret behind the propulsion of the bullet of a firearm - gunpowder. Two parts sulfur, fifteen parts saltpeter, and three parts charcoal - willow wood, if you can get it - dampened slightly during manufacture to prevent any unfortunate accidents, and then ground into the finest particles possible. In the field, this usually means a mortar and pestle, but for the real good stuff you want a cast iron runner mill."

"Alchemy lesson aside, the secret behind gunpowder is that it's actually a low explosive substance. You first put a small pinch first inside the barrel of the pistol, and then into the pan of the lock here." Iker pulled out his pistol, indicating the appropriate part on his weapon. "Then, when the trigger is pulled, this little piece of flint held in the c ock scrapes down the frizzen here. The resulting spark ignites the powder, creating a small explosion inside the gun. The resulting force then blows the bullet out the end and into whatever unfortunate creature is unlucky enough to be in front of the muzzle. Of course, since the force comes from an explosion, the process leaves three byproducts: smoke and heat from the ignition, and - of course - a loud, thunderclap-like noise."

I bet you weren't expecting a lesson on how flintlock weapons work when you got up this morning, were you? :smallbiggrin:

"As for where I got this weapon... Well, that is a story in and of itself." Iker looked off into the distance, a look of wistfulness and sadness crossing his features. "I mentioned earlier that my family was a group of traveling merchants. When I was ten years old, we came through Oppara to try and sell off a particularly ornate heap of carpets we'd come by previously. As boys my age are wont to do, I snuck off and did some exploring. In another part of the markets, I came by a bunch of gunsmiths showing off their craft by publicly demonstrating on a bunch of watermelons. Obviously, I'd never seen a gun at that point, and so I just had to give it a try. So I snuck up, grabbed a pistol, and fired it off, completely obliterating one of the unfortunate melons."

"Of course, I was caught, delivered back to my parents, and made to apologize. But then something odd and wonderful happened. The head of that group of gunsmiths, Ewald, said that he was impressed by my talent, beginner's luck, what have you, and he offered to show me the art of the firearm." Iker let out a contented sigh. "That week was the best one of my life. Ewald taught me everything - how to make a gun, how to repair a gun, how to make powder and bullets, and - of course - how to fire a gun. It was a week that was over all too soon, and I begged my parents in vain to let me stay on as his apprentice. But, as a parting gift, he left me this pistol, and told me to find him again one day when I was grown up." A resolute look crossed Iker's face. "That's the other reason I'm traveling. I'm going to find Ewald again one day, and I'm going to show him what I've learned - and get one last lesson from him."