Planar Pursuit [IC]

[Let'sGetKraken]

A warm summer breeze drifts into the tall stone tower in which you find yourselves standing. Unfortunately, half a dozen guards stand between you and the opportunity to truly enjoy the gorgeous summer weather. Two stand to each side of the four of you, with another two guarding the door behind you out of sight. You received the summons, as they were, at the crack of dawn and were escorted to the keep by a squad of rather jumpy low-level battle clerics. You still can’t decide if their presence was flattering or their general ineptitude demeaning.

The source of the wind is an enormous window, stretching nearly the length and the height of the room on the wall to the left of you. The gap, presumably covered by a magical barrier of some sort, affords the four of you a splendid view of Quorros. From here, you are afforded a beautiful view of the city as the gleaming marble buildings gradually give way to the magical tunnels that twist beneath the lake. Harboring more than 12,000 people, Quorros is one of the largest cities on Everell. In the distance, on the other side of the enormous lake, you can barely make out the dense canopy of the inhospitable jungle.

You have more pressing concerns than the scenery, however. Before you stands a tall, thin, bespectacled man dressed in the garbs of an archmagus, an overseer of a particular community. The sigils on his robes make no effort to hide his devotion to Illirilil, though in a city that prides itself on pushing the boundaries of magical research, this is hardly a surprise. Regardless, his reputation and power precede him; it is said that he is personally responsible for a half-dozen levels in the fulcrum of his goddess. He does not seem particularly pleased to see the four of you. In fact, he has spent most of the time since you arrived staring at the shimmering purple domes and tubes beneath the waves.

Next to him stands the captain of the guard. Tall, broad, and extraordinarily muscular, the eldritch knight’s rune-inscribed armor marks him as one who has honed both his combat and magical abilities to perfection. His gray eyes slowly appraise you, missing no detail and sparing you no sympathy. He looks like he wants to gut the three unmarked amongst you, but this is hardly surprising – he must be under an enormous amount of pressure to catch the unmarked who have infested several aquatic regions of the city.

With a wave of his hand, the archmagus dismisses the guards. The four battlecasters you can see look hesitant to leave the most prominent politician in the city with four individuals of questionable repute, but a glare from their captain sends them scurrying. The four of you are now alone with the two most powerful and dangerous men in Quorros.

The archmagus, after a long, tense moment of silence, turns to gaze upon you for the first time in minutes and clears his throat. “As you most likely know, I am Archmagus Ghelest. This is Captain Arrek. If you do anything to provoke us, understand that you will not be leaving this room alive. Understood?”

The silence is sharp enough to cut steel.

“Good. Before we begin, do you have any questions?”

[3SecondCultist]

Lyral waits until the robe-magic-man has finished speaking to shrug noncommittally. They need to see he isn't afraid of them. The grizzled man doesn't stand, and yet he doesn't seem comfortable sitting down either. Placid grey eyes watch everything patiently, and he fingers the daggers at his belt with ease. Nothing in this hive is what it seems. He isn't used to being this high up. The forests - his preferred hunting ground - were always mostly enclosed, and the tunnels of the city were a far stretch from these surroundings. But Lyral pays the view little mind: he needs to keep his guard up. The two men right in front of him seem particularly threatening, and the idea of striking now does cross his mind. He would start with the bigger man, stabbing his skinning blade up into the softer flesh beneath his chin. Next, he would morph, overwhelming the guards in this enclosed space. Lyral doesn't quite know what to make of the strange magic-man, however. He would make a good meal. Tempting. But he doesn't particularly enjoy the idea of dying in this awful, noisy place. Not now. Not yet.

"I only have one question. What is it you want with me?" The inquiry comes out more like a growl than a man's voice. The hunter doesn't even spare the other three a glance. Freedom is the only thing on his mind now.

[St.Just]

Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he is led into the room, Philippe takes a moment to survey his surroundings and companions. A flash of recognition and a slight smile passes over his face as he sees Carric, replaced by a look of distaste as the savage-looking human begins to speak. After a moment, and as respectfully as he can manage, he addresses the Archmagus, offering a slight bow before saying Merely curiosity as to the nature of the summons sir. I'm in the middle of organizing a mission to the Dragons Fang and hope not to be greatly delayed.

[n0ble]

Carric seems at ease with the situation he finds himself in, affecting a calm, if prideful air. The only concession towards what he is really feeling is a wry smile on his face, one part jovial, the other mocking. As he surveys the other prominent figures in the room, his red eyes linger on the Archmagus. Oppressor. And then the captain, particularly the runes that bedeck his armour. Tyrant. "Why have I been brought here? Surely if you want to keep an unmarked like me...indisposed, there must be an easier and more cost effective way to do so" As his eyes scan over the two humans and halfling in his half of the room, they gaze upon a familiar face "Philippe, you old snake, it has been far too long! Tell me, what have you done thats caused you to thrown in with us lowly unmarked?" he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. As if to punctuate his question, Carric snaps his fingers, pale flame appearing on the pointer finger of his left hand. He proceeds to dip his pointer finger in a pipe, lighting it's contents aflame. Smoke begins to billow around him as Carric puffs away amicably.

[3SecondCultist]

Lyral quietly notes Philippe's disgust, filing it away for later use. He didn't realize the others would take any interest in him, let alone show it so plainly. He turns his head to look at the man, baring all of his teeth. It's a sign of mutual interest, and he hopes that the stranger will read it as such. But the smile doesn't reach his eyes: they're as still as a lake with no breeze.

"Phi-lli-pe." Lyral enunciates carefully, rolling each syllable on his tongue. They're morsels of sound, and he finds that he quite likes them. Not prey, and yet he resembles the magic-man talking to them now. Perhaps he is another? "Yes, tell us what it is you have done. We unmarked are 'unfit for fraternization'." A new word, and one he doesn't fully understand. Truth be told, he heard it from a merchant selling some interesting vials down in the tunnels. A faint smile - more genuine, with feeling - flits across the hunter's lips at the memory of his screams.

At the sight of the other's fire, Lyral almost starts. But he manages to compose himself. More of them? But this one doesn't look anything like a magic-man. Scales, the right eye of a snake? No, he's something else. The druids of Ars Elvondin taught him much, but they did not prepare him for the messy, complicated world outside the wilds. Best to wait and watch for now. Besides, the robe-magic-man has yet to answer his question.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton winces as a pain shoots through his head from the various people talking. What happened last night, I remember betting with some large man that I could in fact balance on top of the stair banister while drinking a pint. A grin comes to his face as he remembers the mans shock when he achieved the feat while already drunk. Then I think some argument about cheating broke out with that same burly man but what happened after that. Did I drink to much... or did that big guy break that chair over my head? Well this headache suggests maybe both.

Alton shakes those thoughts away and answers the robbed man after glancing around at the others "If this is about disturbing the peace last night then I swear it is not my fault, I believe it was the work of another larger man who attacked me. I think his name was John, or was it Adam... anyway I am a law abiding citizen who will gladly pay any fees and be on my way." He pauses as he takes in the others in the cell. "As interesting as these fine gentlemen may be I am in no condition to present myself to new people at the moment.".

[Let'sGetKraken]

Lyral notices that the Archmagus seems anxious, but not in a particularly deceptive way. Indeed, you get the impression that he doesn’t really care about you at all except for how you can fix whatever’s causing him stress. Lyral does note that space around the Archmagus’ staff seems to be almost imperceptibly warping.

Provoked by Carric’s mockery, Captain Arrek’s sword is halfway out of his sheath before the Archmagus snaps his fingers. A blinding flash of light fills the room, leaving everyone dazed and reeling. When the four of you can finally see again, the captain of the watch has regained his composure. With a scowl on his face, he replies, “I will not stand here while scum like you demeans me or the Archmagus. People like you – those who turn their back on society, who break the covenant that protects us all – you make me sick. You will watch your poisonous tongue or I will cut it out myself.”

The Archmagus sighs. If anything, he looks bored. “Arrek, please.” Anger written plain across his face, the captain spins and strides to the window, pointedly ignoring the three of you who are unmarked.

The Archmagus shakes his head. “Now see what you’ve done. That will be enough insubordination, thank you,” he says, as if talking to a child. Turning to the wizard, he begins to answer your questions. “Philippe, I am sorry to have dragged you away from your little…project. But you have experience with the jungle that few other wizards around here have, and I thought you might benefit from a less… academic excursion. It will be over and you may return to your work soon enough, I assure you.”

Next, the Archmagus grins slightly as he looks over the rogue in front of him. “Oh, you may well be innocent of disturbing the peace. But bearing false runes?” His smile widens. “Now that’s something else entirely.”

Finally, turning to the savage druid before him, he frowns. “Direct. Very well. I have a job for you. You are familiar with this city’s reputation for housing the unmarked?” Without giving you time to reply, he continues, “It has a great source of irritation for myself and my good captain here. Now, we would be more than happy to cart the lot of them off into the jungle and let them be, but they see things… differently. They wish to take Quorros… and I believe they may have the means to do so.”

Clearing his throat once more, he snaps his fingers and the entire back wall of the room becomes a map. A point, only about fifty kilometers south of your current position and deep in the jungle, is illuminated. “There is a camp of unmarked that we believe to be in possession of certain magical weapons. Explosives, as a matter of fact. Enough to do considerable harm to the infrastructure of the city, and breach the magical tunnels that traverse the lake. They mean to hold me ransom with the threat of killing thousands… including hundreds of the, what was it, 'oppressed' unmarked,” he says with a pointed look at Carric. “I would not have my people die needlessly, and I cannot give them what they want without undermining the supply chain that traverses this continent and giving up access to the fulcrum of my goddess.” He clenches his fist.

“There is a small border settlement about ten kilometers south of here – a tentative attempt to settle the fringes of the jungle. They should be able to give you a more educated estimation of the camp’s location. Once there, you may fight your way in, or may attempt to lie – three unmarked leading a marked captive will not seem terribly out of place, I imagine. But the means are unimportant. You are to find the explosives and destroy them. Capture a ringleader if you can, kill them if you can’t.” He pauses, looking each of you in the eye. “Do this, and I provide you with what you most want.” Behind him, the map flashes through a series of rapid images – a dagger, a flame, a forest, and a vast chasm.

Captain Arrek, who has been silently listening this whole time, chooses to chime in with, “And we don’t banish you all to the elemental plane of water.” He glances at Philippe and frowns. “Well, most of you.”

The Archmagus clears his throat – a not-so-subtle indication that this line of thinking does not need to be currently discussed. “Do we have an agreement?”

[St.Just]

Philippe gave Carric a wide smile and replied
"Oh, I doubt I've done anything vulgar as to be cast down with the likes of you. Besides, you know my work, if my experiments ever go really wrong there won't be anything left of me to punish."

After a moments consideration he continued
"Would you be looking for work, I wonder? I'll be needing someone capable with fire and light for some exploration quite soon."

As Lyral questioned him, Philippe examined the unmarked woodsmen for a moment A predator that one, surprised he found his way into the city.. As he opened his mouth to reply, the Archmagus snapped his fingers and Philippe lose his train of thought along with his sight.

After his vision cleared and the mission was explained, he said with a slight shrug and small sigh Fair enough, the task certainly seems to need doing. Perhaps I'll have a bit of time to study ley line networks in the jungle while we're there, I'm told there are some interesting peculiarities to the region.

After a moments though, he continues
Though if I may ask, surely dealing with a gang of oddly well armed rabble would for you be the work of an afternoon? Seize one and cast the rest into the sky, or whatever the fashion is at the moment.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Archmagus nods at Philippe's words. "You are correct. I do possess the magical resources to deal with them, but I am concerned that this is a trap for someone of my abilities. If I go, not only would I be leaving the city without leadership, but I would be putting this city's stability and safety at risk."

He glances over at Captain Arrek briefly; it seems like they've had this discussion before.

"In addition, you four will draw less attention among the unmarked, and display a greater range of abilities. I am confident you will be able to succeed. If you do not... well, it will be highly unpleasant." The screen behind him flashes momentarily with images of fire, death, flooding, and a burning jungle.

[n0ble]

Carric greets Phillippe with an even broader smile. Too true, old friend. I'll gladly accompany you. After all, your probably the only decent marked fellow in this entire room, if not the whole world. He makes a point of looking at the Archmagus as he says this.

He nods in approval as Alton mentions disturbing the peace. His gaze lingers on the unkempt man bedecked with weapons, I have seen many savages in my lifetime, but even he stands apart from the fiercest of them.

After the bright flash of light from the captain, Carric blinks away the spots in his eyes. Fire dances in his right claw, aimed squarely at the captain. The air around him seems warmer, thicker than it was before. His rigid body posture indicating he is on edge with something that borders on eagerness. As the light clears he sheepishly extinguishes the fire in his hand, exchanging it for a different kind of weapon It seems the dog has considerable bite to match it's bark. Good thing it's on such a tight leash. He finishes with a tight sneer at the captain, the scales on his face making it appear lopsided.

However, as the Archmagus begins to explain the reasoning behind why he is here, the sneer gradually disappears, eventually settling into something resembling a frown. The change in temperature that accompanied the Captain's outburst increases, to the point where even Carric seems uncomfortable with the level of heat surrounding him. His eyes gradually narrow, widening only slightly as the mage presents him with a view of flame. Even though I no longer wear their chains, I'm still a slave. It is a small wonder they rule over us when we unmarked are so eager to kill our own... He sighs inwardly. Composing himself, Carric's face returns to the same wry smile he was wearing before the Captains outburst, You make it sound as though we have a choice, I graciously accept your invitation of servitude. As he says this, he sketches a mock bow, he eyes, which retain their narrow appearance, remain fixed on the eyes of the Archmagus.

[3SecondCultist]

As the metal-man in charge storms to the edge of the tower, Lyral's earlier smile devolves into something more like a smirk. As little as he understands about runed society, he does understand anger. The fact that they got to the metal-man is good enough for him. The agitation that the robe-magic-man displays is just as noticeable, and Lyral is surprised that nobody is picking up on it. I guess they're just not as sharp as me.

Upon hearing the word 'explosive', however, Lyral pauses. He has heard the word, but never in this context. He understands the idea of destruction though. The thought of fire brings him no pleasure, and the image of the burning jungle that the robe-magic-man shows him on the map is more than a little depressing. It's just so... so pointless. Even to a hunter like him, seeing such devastation is far from joyous. His smile has faded now, and as he looks at the scale-magic-man - Carric, was that his name? - he notes a similar frown. He's thinking along the same lines, I'd bet.

So, what to do now? There will be prey for him to hunt there, new chances to challenge his abilities. These 'companions' are also an interesting sort, and Lyral decides he wants to travel in a pack, like he used to. Maybe he'll kill them when the time is right. He hasn't yet decided. And if I can keep the forests from burning, all the better. To be honest, he made the decision before even entering the room. Anything to earn his freedom from this place.

Gathering himself to his full height, Lyral stretches the vertebrae in his back one at a time. It's akin to a great cat uncoiling itself, muscles tightening, then loosening. His eyes are fixed on the robe-magic-man the whole time. "When do we start?"

[GameOfChampions]

Alton clears his throat uncomfortably at the mention of his mark. He addresses the archmage his voice dripping with sarcasm "Well with you giving us so many options how could I possibly say no."

With Alton siting there with a scowl on his face and slumping in his chair he gives off the general impression of 'I'm ******* pissed right now'. However behind his facade of anger Alton's mind whirs with the possibilities this job could offer, the resources, information, and most importantly the possible allies that that might help him if he needs it. 'Also', as he glanced warily at the archmage, 'not going to jail would be a huge plus 'I hate having to break out its such a pain and i always get dirty' he thought. 'This is definitly not a man to cross at least', he thought as the images flashed across the screen, 'That captain of his would just love to hang my handsome mug from the guard tower'. 'Besides' a little grin breaks through his facade of anger 'this might be a fun little game, even if i don't know what all the players do'

[St.Just]

Nodding in response to the Archmagus' explanation, Philippe responded
"Fair enough then, I'm ready to live whenever the rest are ready."

[Let'sGetKraken]

The Archmagus snorts at Carric’s snide proclamation of servitude. “Temporary servitude. Do this for me, and you can do whatever you wish, as long as it is away from my city.” The Archmagus seems pleased that you have agreed to eliminate the threat; he doesn’t seem even remotely imtimidated by Lyral or irritated by Alton’s frustration. If anything, he looks slightly amused.

“You will depart immediately. Arrek will escort you to the edge of the city,” the wizard says, with a ghost of a smile. “I have already arranged for your possessions and provisions to be delivered to you.” He waves his hand and the wall of force that had blocked the exit shimmers as it fades. Arrek roughly pushes past you to stand by the door, purposefully knocking into Carric. Ghelest’s smile widens.

As the captain of the guard beckons the four of you towards the exit, the Archmagus’ voice rings out from behind you. “Oh, and one more thing. If you attempt to double-cross me or flee… Not only will I personally kill each and every one of the unmarked in this city, I will find you and subject you to the most horrific punishments imaginable.” He pauses, looking at Philippe. “Well, most of you. But if you fail to keep them in line, Philippe, I will be greatly displeased. Good luck!”

Arrek leads you out of the room and down the marble staircase that leads onto the bank of the lake. Outside, the sunlight is brilliant and dazzling; it reminds you of the Archmagus’ little trick. The captain, walking pointedly ahead of you, growls, “We’ll be at the city gates in a moment. If you have any final questions, now would be the time to ask.”

[3SecondCultist]

As Lyral proceeds down the stairs in the sunlight, he takes a moment to breathe in the fresh air. At least up here, above the confusing smells and sounds of the city, there is some space to move. He doesn't think much of the robe-magic-man's promise of a painful death. It's hardly the first time he's faced such a thing. Just another animal, puffing out his chest instead of taking action himself. Despite all of his empty threats, he has just sent the four of them to do his work for him. He even admitted that he was afraid his enemies had laid a trap for him. It's all he can do not to sneer outwardly. Lyral has no respect for cowards. But in this case, the coward can muster stronger beasts to his service. He knows that it's enough to ensure his service... for now.

Looking out over the red-black aromas of Quarros, Lyral's eyes flit here and there, catching whatever he can before the party reaches the lake. Once they've arrived, he turns to the big man in the armor. Moving sinuously, Lyral takes a step forward, and then another. Even as the metal-man prepares to draw, Lyral gets in close. His eyes are still, a wolf waiting to strike. He knows he has no intention of spilling the man's blood here. But Lyral is nothing if not honest.

"I only have one question: have you ever heard the tale of the scorpion and the frog?"

[n0ble]

Carric wears a pleased expression on his face, content that he has been able to enrage the captain. Addressing the captain in a patronizing manner, he says As a matter of fact I do have a question. You strike me as a rather informed man, my dear Captain. Tell me, what sort of numbers do these insurgents possess? If only so I may conceive of a plan to eliminate them... I know of a particular marked tribe in the north who would do well to fear explosives. That would show them the true meaning of a flame that would never die. Freedom. For all. he thinks to himself, thoughts giddy with the possibilities this situation presents for the future. He re-lights his pipe, waiting expectantly for an answer.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton rolls his eyes at the threat as he turns to address the archmage "Well cliche threat aside, I guess I won't betray you since we are such good friends. I could never do that to you." He winks at the mage as he says that last bit. 'That horrific punishment thing does not sound fun though. I'll just finish this stuff and then vanish into the city, I don't need this aggravation'.

All his thoughts stop as they get outside and the bright light hits him and blinding pain hits him again "Ohh dear Estigral!" Alton moans. "I only have one question sir. Please for the love of Estigral do you have any painkillers? Or would you be willing to carry me I promise I don't weigh that much. Its only the hammer and anvil pounding in my head that weigh very much." Alton begged the captain not even caring what the others thought.

[Let'sGetKraken]

Make an insight check.
The Captain completely ignores the halfling's mewling pleas for aid as the five of you walk through the outer gates of the city and onto the sandy shore.

As soon as the vaguely threatening words leave Lyral's mouth, what seems to be a small, localized blizzard erupts where he is standing. Seconds later, when it clears, Lyral is conscious of a sword being pressed to his throat from behind him.

"No," Captain Arrek whispers into Lyral's ear. "But you're more than welcome to tell me." His other hand is extended at Carric, which glows faintly with eldritch purple light. After a moment to make sure his point is made, he steps back and sheathes his sword.

"No more games. No more stories. No more insults or provocations," he roars. "You will leave, and with any luck at all I will never see either of you again," He pointedly glares at the half-elf sorcerer and human druid as he says this, fire in his eyes. He gestures to four packs, which lie on the edge of the lake.

Whirling around, he walks up to Philippe. "I'm sorry you had to see that. The camp," he says, ignoring the sorcerer, "should have anywhere between six and fifty unmarked in it, depend on the number who are scouting and raiding the good, honest people of the forest. Follow the path to the southwest; it will take you around the lake and to the village. They will be able to show you the path to the camp."

With that, the burly fighter spins and stalks towards the city. As he walks through, he flicks his hand out and the gate slams shut behind him. The four of you are left standing on the shore, with only the water lapping gently against the shore and the rapidly melting snow around Lyral's feet for company.

[GameOfChampions]

"****" Alton mutters as Captain Arrek slams the gate behind him. He walks over to his pack and roots around in it for a second coming up with a small engraved flask, he unstops it and takes a quick pull off of it. "Wow" Alton gives his head a little shake "That helps a bunch." He looks around and proffers the flask to everyone "Anyone want a nip before setting off on this extremely voluntary mission?".

"Well if what the Captain said was true we should have everyone who can try and scout our way so we don't get caught." He looks around at the group "Any other volunteers?" He winks at the tall dour man "I bet you are right at home out in the jungle aren't you?"

You can make a perception check if you guys want to see what the flask says.

[3SecondCultist]

As the sensation of the strange white-stuff, Lyral begins to panic. But he quickly realizes that it's harmless, just another threat. Taking a deep breath, he composes himself as the captain closes the gates and leaves the four adventurers stranded on the far side.

Stepping out of the magic and towards the edge of the lake, the hunter's face cracks into a smile. Hehehe... The metal-man didn't know it yet, but he had issued a challenge, one that Lyral had every intent of answering one day. His chuckling grows louder, echoing over the pebbles and lapping waves. Eventually, he has broken down into near-hysterics, a horrible grin heralding things to come. Whirling around, he hurls his voice towards the gates of Quarros after the disappeared warrior.

"Oh, I will leave. But luck has nothing to do with it... you will see me again. Count on that!"

His temporary fit subsiding, Lyral sits amongst the stones. Hopefully the metal-man will put up a fight, the next time we meet. Still, that white-stuff had thrown him off his guard. It was cold, colder than anything he'd ever encountered. Looking over at Alton, Lyral sniffs the beverage cautiously. He has heard of this 'alcohol' that the peoples of the big cities drink, but he has yet to partake in such poison. Clean living means long living, it's what the elves taught him. He simply shakes his head at the proffered flask.

The idea of scouting, though, that does interest him greatly. It's been a while since he was out in the proper wilds. Besides, the small one is the most amusing of the group. Lyral is fascinated by him, his strange behavior. "I will scout with you, little-man. The wilds have been my home since I can remember, I will lead the way." It's not a question. The robe-man said south, did he not?"

[n0ble]

Touchy, touchy Carrick thinks to himself after the Captains little tirade. He lazily surveys the lake in front of him, taking in the beautiful environment. Beautiful His serenity is interrupted by the the rather rugged looking fellow as he bellows his challenge to the Captain. Now that would be an interesting contest to witness Following the large mans declaration Carric matches it with one of his own And i hope to never see you again, you ****ing Tyrant! Following this, and the green man's insistence on leading the way causes Carric to turn out of his way, gesturing with his clawed hand down the pathway, "After you, my boisterous colleague" he says jovially. As he turns in behind the man,he thinks to himself your not the only one who wishes to see that tyrant again...

Carric looks at the Halfing's flask before taking it from his hand, gulping down a hefty amount Ahhhhhh, that tastes delicious! he offers Alton his pipe, Care for a drag? he offers, picking up his pack and smartly wheeling on his foot so that he falls in behind the big man. I will return, and bring freedom with me... Casting a glance behind he exclaims sarcastically A fine mess we're in now eh Phillipe?. He strikes a cheeky smile in his friends direction, before turning to follow the big man a grin plastered on his face...

[St.Just]

Sitting down heavily next to his pack, Philippe nodded to Carric and replied
"It's certainly something new, at least."

Tossing on the pack and standing up, the diviner grasped the preferred flash and took a swig. Ensuring that his crosssbow and focus were in easy reach, he says
"Let's get going then. The longer we wait the more time this takes, and I'm sure all of us have things we'd rather be doing."

[Let'sGetKraken]

The trek around the western side of the lake takes you the better part of eight hours; much of which this is spent in reflective silence, but occasionally someone will strike up a conversation. Lyral, in particular, is amazed by the Carric's description of an entire region of the world perpetually locked in ice and snow. As the sun wanes and covers the lake in a gorgeous scarlet, you finally reach the edge of the jungle.

As you watch the fading slivers of light struggle to penetrate the lush canopy before you, you are faced with a quandary; judging from the map, the frontier village seems to only be another hour and a half of walking away. You can stop and make camp here for the night, which would leave you resting in the open with little in the way of shelter, protection, or civilization. On the other hand, you can choose to press into the jungle and risk losing your way in the twilight, but most likely find a welcoming and well-defended place to spend the night.

[3SecondCultist]

Snow. The word has a quiet resonance. The woods were never cold enough for such an occurrence, and for an entire land to be covered in the stuff... it's strange, to say the least. Lyral's rapt silence is evidence of his interest, as he wonders what kinds of predators exist in such conditions. He might like to see more snow one day.

As the molten disk of the sun dips towards the distant waters, Lyral finds himself at the same crossroads as the other three. The jungle beckons. The thought of morphing, of living inside a beast's skin again is thrilling. As Carric's words fall around him, the hunter remembers. The sights and smells are like nothing he's ever experienced. The sheer amount of everything threaten to overwhelm the senses, and yet they don't. To be an animal is a perfect harmony of power and speed. And to hunt... well that's the greatest pleasure. Idly, he wonders whether any of this pack would make for a good hunt. The village is close as well, although Lyral has yet to feel any traces of sleep.

"We should press on." He can hardly give weight to the strength of his desire to comb the brush, and he supposes that the magic-men will need better shelter than the edge of the lake. Being out in the open after dark does not sit well with him.

[n0ble]

...And some of the beasts there are truly terrifying in their majesty Carric stops describing his homeland abruptly, noticing the beginning of the jungle. The smile he had worn for the last eight hours settles into a tight line, he eyes unwavering. The sense of apprehension he feels at walking into the jungle is made manifest by how the air around him takes on an uncomfortable warmth. And yet, almost as quickly as it appears, the heat within and outside Carric is replaced by an internal yearning for a warm bed and a good fire. Besides, he thinks to himself, the big man seems confident he can lead the way. "I agree with... Lyral was it? I do not enjoy feeling so exposed. Better, I think, to be in unfamiliar territory that affords us protection rather than a place which offers no protection at all." He gestures to the jungle. "I shall take up the rear so as to lend my fire to those more inclined to... direct confrontation." Smoke escapes from his nostrils as if to confirm this statement.

Carry the fire, Carric the memory stirs in his head, accompanied by a feeling of pained nostalgia. He quickly banishes the thought from his mind, loading his crossbow as he does. A slightly forced smile graces his face, as if he a deep wound has just reopened itself. "Can't afford to live in the past" he mutters, more to himself than anyone else, his face returning to the same tautness it first had when the group came to the edge of the jungle.

[GameOfChampions]

As the day had gone on Alton had become less and less hungover and more and more talkative, needing little to no hesitation to launch into a story about some job gone haywire or a rowdy night on the town. He would continue talking even if no one was even listening to him, making the time pass in his own world.

As the jungle comes into view he quiets down and looks at the jungle, then at the surrounding area. "Look guys I want a warm bed and a hot meal as much as the next guy but I don't know if marching through the forest at night is worth that. I mean i don't know about the rest of you but I actually can't see in the dark and that makes me a bit wary." he pauses and with a brief glance at Lyral "Besides night is when the predators come out and I don't feel like becoming anyone's snack." Alton stops and gestures around him "This seems like a fine place to make camp, there's a lake, fire wood, and the clearing makes it difficult for anything to get the jump on us."

[Let'sGetKraken]

The four of you, after several minutes of spirited argument, decide to press on into the jungle. As the last light fades, the jungle is dark and eerily silent around you; the few sounds you can hear are wholly disconcerting and unnatural to those unfamiliar with the jungle.

As you press on into the night, each of you hopes you can make it to the village without getting lost. The consequences of losing your way are too horrible to consider

Each of you, make a survival check. Everyone who does not have some sort of sensory advantage (Alton and Philippe) rolls with disadvantage. Alternatively, you can choose to roll normally by using torches, but that may well draw undue attention to yourselves.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton walks along arms crossed, seemingly unhappy with the course the group has ended up taking, with his short bow out in one hand and an arrow in the other tapping in a rapid tempo against his thigh. His eyes scan the surrounding foliage nonstop constantly checking for threats 'I just know this won't end well, somewhere out there is a really big ass wolf who's craving for a little piece of halfling.' Alton shakes the thoughts out of his head as another loud noise echos through the jungle making him draw his arrow back partway before realizing it wasn't a threat, he lets his breath out as the sound fades away. Alton looks around the dark forest looking for any signs they were headed in the right direction "So does anyone know if we are going the right way?".


Survival: [roll0]
Survival: [roll1]

Perception: [roll2]
Perception: [roll3]

[3SecondCultist]

Drawing a faint symbol in the air with a few rogue pieces of bone, Lyral completes his spell. When he opens his eyes, the sounds of the jungle are nowhere near as confusing. It's not the forest of his birth, but it's close enough in practice. He can hear each macaw, each howler monkey. And the orientation of the map is just easier to follow now - his senses sharpened past the point of human expertise.

It's not enough. Even with the spell, he cannot see in the dark well enough to understand the path. Shooting the other three adventurers a glance, Lyral assesses whether or not now would be a good time. If and when he decides to turn on them, the element of surprise would be nice. But in this case, it might be wiser to just...

"I know where to go. Come on, I suspect we're being followed. Best keep up." A second spell, this one affecting his outer limbs as opposed to the workings of his mind. His steps are incredibly fast now, each foot barely grazing the jungle floor as it rises once again. Stepping ahead of the party, Lyral finds a small bare patch. I am the hunter. And then, he changes. Convulsing, the man in the green cloak collapses on all fours. The first things to go are the teeth and fingernails: pushed out of place by the coming claws and fangs, they clatter on the ground with sprinklings of blood. I am the hunter. Next is the hair, falling out by the handful, replaced by a shaggy grey coat. His form elongates, adding a layer of exterior muscle and fur, and his pupils sharpen into orbs of gold and black. His clothes are gone now, melded into the flesh seamlessly. He will get them back eventually. For now, he will enjoy the freedom he has missed for so long. I am the hunter.

The wolf that stands in Lyral's place is much larger than the average beast of the forest. His stature betrays his new nature as one of a dire wolf, the swift killers of the deep woods. He stares balefully at Alton, then Carric, then Phillipe. He won't eat them yet. Best to find shelter. With a shrug that can only say 'follow me', the man-turned-beast begins to set off towards the village.

As I mentioned in the OOC thread, I'm casting Enhance Ability followed by Longstrider (bringing my speed up to 60 ft), and using one of my Wild Shape uses to turn into a Dire Wolf. That should make things more interesting!

[n0ble]

Confounded jungle Carric thinks to himself as he nearly hits his head on the branch of a low hanging tree. I suppose letting the big man lead was the smart choice after all. . Content with his choice to allow Lyral to lead, Carric strolls on, his elven eyes taking in the terrifying beauty of the jungle.

Following Lyral's transformation Carric holds the beasts gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly, a predatory smirk on his face. A skin walker. This one fancies himself a hunter it would seem The air around him suddenly goes cold, his body absorbing ambient heat, converting the ambient warmth into fuel for his powers. Power I can use. his smirk turns into a leer as heat surges through his body, exhorting him to push on through the jungle.


1d20+

One 1rst level spell slot converted into 2 Sorcery Points for a total of 6

[Let'sGetKraken]

The four of you stumble through darkness of the jungle for the better part of two hours; despite Lyral's advanced senses, you still need to stop and check your course. Eventually, however, the jungle begins to clear - someone has done their best to render this area hospitable. After what feels like an eternity, you can finally glimpse the rough wooden buildings of the village ahead.

Or where they should be, at the very least.

Instead, you are greeted with the site of a slaughter. As you make your way through the last bit of undergrowth and cut your way into the open space of the village, you are greeted with the smoldering ashes of what used to be rough wooden huts. The torn and mutilated bodies of humans and half-elves are strewn about the wreckage of the frontier settlement, and any provisions have been burned.

One thing is certain: you will find no shelter here tonight.

Now you can make that perception check, but for simplicity's sake I'll keep the ones you already made (for those of you who already done it). Those without enhanced senses have disadvantage.

In addition, you may make an investigation check (made with disadvantage unless you have darkvision) to determine what exactly happened here.

[GameOfChampions]

As Alton views the burning wreckage and mutilated bodies his mind jumps back and all he sees for a second is the gutted ruined shell of his guild house and the cold semi-burnt body of his friend and guild master. He shakes his head and sniffs 'This is not the time dammit!', clearing his head of the past he looks at the destroyed village "So I'm going on the record as telling all of you I told you so. Now that that is out of the way I think we shouldn't stray to far from each other, this is not the time to be caught out alone." Alton looks at the group and Lyral specifically "I think you and I should go scout around this area a bit and wave over the others once it's clear and then move on in that pattern." Alton looks over at the other two "Do you guys know what may have caused this? Could it have been the markless insurgents we were sent here to stop?"

After his little speech Alton starts scanning the area for any threats while also looking back to the group to subtly try and gauge their thoughts both on his ideas and the massacred village. As he says everything Alton goes into a slight crouch, a stillness comes over the small halfling as he surveys the area.

Stealth: [roll0]
If there is enough light to not be at a disadvantage then the first roll will be mine if not then i guess the worst of the two
Perception: [roll1] and [roll2]
Investigation: [roll3] and [roll4]

[3SecondCultist]

The sensation of coming back to oneself is always a strange one. When he first demonstrated it amongst the elves, they called it 'synthesis'. To be honest, he never really paid attention at that point. He was always more interested in the practical things, woodcraft, survival. It was those lessons that had led him here, to this site of blood and death and fire. By the time he is standing again, Lyral has fully absorbed his surroundings. He takes in everything slowly, although his eyes fall on strange items. A childhood among the trees does not lend itself to such trivialities. Still, this is more than he was expecting. As the little-man is the first to speak up, Lyral looks over at him, an expression of genuine curiosity stealing across his face. Why is he telling us that he already told us?

Lyral looks out at the wreckage, and for a moment, wonders what it would have been like to live here. To die here. So many bodies. There aren't any signs of whoever or whatever did this having taken anything from the bodies, meat or otherwise. It just seems so wasteful. There are no tears, but there is a solemnity, a curious emptiness. He reminds himself that they're just prey.

"We should stick together." He wouldn't like to come face to face with the beast that did this. Well, he would. But they might help him identify the force of this destruction, at least.

[St.Just]

Looking over the massacred camp in disbelief, it takes all of Philippe's willpower to keep himself from retching at the sight and smell. Muttering to himself "What in all the hells? What would even do this?"

Despite the darkness and his exhaustion, he attempts to look over the camp site and piece together what happened, for the moment fear and curiosity overcoming disgust.

Nodding in agreement when Lyras mentions sticking together, he says "Yes, that seems for the best. Whatever did this doesn't look particularly subtle, and I personally would prefer not to get isolated and picked off.



Perception
[roll0]
[roll1]

Investigate
[roll2]
[roll3]

[n0ble]

More death. why does it always follow me?... Carric hadn't seen this much wanton slaughter in a very long time. "Such devastation" he mutters. Half listening to Alton, acknowledging what t halfling says with a slight nod. Devastation on this scale... i highly doubt it would have mattered whether we rested first or not. Carric intones, all hints of joy gone from his voice. As he says this he crouches, picking up some of the ash on the ground, letting run through his fingers. He seems mesmerized by it, almost as if he's trying to count each little grain of ash. Too often have the lives of others slipped through my hands. Whatever did this could just as easily do it to unmarked.I will not allow this to happen. Carric snaps out of his reminiscing with a start, his eyes shifting the burring of the village before he wheels around to the rest of the group, flashing a smile. "Right, so this has all rather gotten out of hand" he says, casting the remaining ash back onto the ground. "Best to stick together like the big man is saying, maybe we'll find something that points to what did this..."

[roll0]

[Let'sGetKraken]

From what you can tell, this attack happened several hours ago. Most villagers seem to have been killed with crude weapons, but many others seem to have had large chunks of their flesh ripped away, as if they had been partially devoured after the attack. Many sets of tracks lead off to the west.

Further inspection of the tracks reveal that the attackers dragged several large, heavy objects after them; it seems unlikely that whatever left those impressions on the ground was brought to the attack. You notice bloodstains dotted amongst the tracks; most disturbingly, you also spy something that looks suspiciously like a human scalp.

You notice twin pinpricks of what looks like distant torchlight to the east.

You can barely make out what sounds like voices coming from the east. You can't make out any further details.

As you stand over the charred and blackened remains of the village, you are faced with a decision to make. The village was your best hope of finding the unmarked camp; the intelligence given to you by the archmagus is about a week old.

[3SecondCultist]

Strange... Lyral looks over at the little-man, pointing him towards the eastern treeline. Hopefully the magic-men will follow suit. There are lights over there, and voices. I wonder if they know what's going on. It's equally possible that they're the ones responsible for the destruction here. Either way, he would rather they didn't know that the four of them were nearby. Combing through the ruins until he finds a few burned leaves, Lyral pulls out a sprig of spruce from a pouch at his belt and begins to whisper an incantation. He focuses the silent energy outwards, enveloping each of the adventurers in a bubble of quiet. The spell is designed to prevent unwanted attention.

With that done, Lyral makes a motion to the others to follow his tracks, stepping lightly over the body of a child and through a blackened archway. If there are people over there, he intends to find out who they are. He keeps to the darkest corners of the village: behind low walls, closed doors, and the pall of old smoke. They'll never see him coming. He pulls out his bo staff, in anticipation of a fight. If there are people over there, then it's more likely they are predators. Anyone with ties to the village would have tried to clear the site, and no such effort has been made.

Casting my next 2nd level spell Pass without Trace, giving everyone a +10 to our Stealth checks and prohibiting anything from tracking us without magical senses for the next hour. And of course, I'm rolling for Stealth to move closer to the eastern edge of the village, and once I get there, Perception to try and make out what the voices are saying.

Stealth: [roll0]

Perception: [roll1]

[n0ble]

Carric gingerly steps through the ruins of the village, following in Lyrals wake. He keeps a healthy amour of distance between himself and the big man, I can cover his advance at range if need be. Besides he seems to prefer the solitude. he thinks to himself. As the thought forms in his mind he utters a few words and a flame alights in his clawed hand, almost on instinct. Both the flame and his crossbow are aimed at the area just beyond where Lyral is currently hiding, as if waiting for something to appear. His eyes are trained on the twin torch fires that can barely be made out in the east. The flames that consumed this village will be as nothing compared to the inferno I will unleash upon them he thinks eagerly. As the thought crosses his mind, the air around him just a little bit warmer then the rest of the village, his tongue glued to the roof of a mouth that is devoid of moisture. He sneers, more to himself than the others, savouring the warmth that's builds inside his body. Carry the fire





Stealth Check: [roll0]

Perception Check: [roll1]

[Let'sGetKraken]

You still cannot make out the words, as they seem to be coming from more than a hundred feet to the east. However, you can discern more about the voices themselves: they seem to be guttural, twisted whispers. Whatever is out there is certainly not human.

As you watch, the twin pinpricks of orange light seem to be slowly moving away from you. If you wish to catch up to them, you will need to act fast.

Though there are several option available to you, I would remind you that sharing information IC is advisable. I don't think any of you have all the information as of right now. In addition, lighting torches could reveal further clues, but would potentially reveal your position. Finally, you can always choose to do nothing and rest in the ashes of the village if you feel like waiting for morning, but to do so may mean giving up on certain opportunities.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton looks over at Lyral in appreciation for the silence spell, then watches as the man makes his way over to the lights then while making sure he won't be seen follows him. As Alton makes his way through the burnt village he try to ignore the burnt wreckage around him, breathing steadily and calmly through his mouth ignoring the smell of the burnt corpses and the harsh smoky smell from the ruined buildings.

When he makes his way over to Lyral he crouches down beside the man and whispers up at him "So have you noticed anything? Can you tell who they are?" He peers up over the rubble after he says that trying to glimpse the band of murderers. He glances around him at the others "So what do you guys think? Should we attack and take them by surprise, or follow them from a distance. Maybe kill all but one and follow the remaining guy back to whatever hideout they have?" He glances around at the group "Thoughts?" As Alton says all of this in a calm steady voice all he is thinking is 'I just want to destroy this group of murderers and give them what they deserve.' his eyes narrow slightly in hatred as he observes the distant group.

Stealth: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1] and [roll2]

[3SecondCultist]

His eyesight isn't as good in this form, but as Lyral kneels behind a piece of wooden char at the periphery of the settlement, he begins to understand more of what the whispers are saying.

Death.

It isn't something he's unfamiliar with. He learned how to kill at a young age: after all, wolves made the best teachers. But it was always in the context of the hunt, the thrill of the chase. A proving ground. Even on the night of his massacre, it was always to show that he was the better hunter. Whatever did this wasn't interested in proving anything to anyone. Staring out at the pinpricks of light, Lyral turns back to the little-man with a reserved non-expression on his face. His voice is the flight of leaves from the autumn trees, before they hit the ground.

"There's at least one thing out there. Whatever it is, it isn't men. They keep whispering about death." Ever since he heard the whispers, Lyral has been curious. What kind of creature would do this? He's never seen anything like it in his entire lifespan. And as he describes the sounds to Alton and the others, a slow grin lights up his face. Maybe this is my chance to find a new prey to hunt. Increasing his pace, Lyral moves into the eastern jungle to chase after the receding noise. As he does so, he casts yet another spell, and the fingers around his staff tighten. The very nature of the weapon is different to him now, as his senses grow around the carved piece of wood. He will be ready for violence when it comes.

Moving up to double my speed to try and catch up with the creature. I can't seem to find the ruling for it in the PHB, but I assume this gives me a disadvantage on my Stealth check. Also, I cast Shillelagh as a bonus action, making Wis my combat modifier for my quarterstaff. This isn't the smartest call to be making, but it is unfortunately completely in character.

Stealth I: [roll0]
Stealth II: [roll1]

Perception: [roll2]

[n0ble]

Dam and blast it. he curses as the big man takes flight into the jungle. "At least he's eager, eh?" Carric says to alton as he arrives to where the halfling stands. "By the gods this whole thing has gone rather pear shaped eh? I suppose it could be worse, we could be marked eh? So, I say we at least catch up first, we can work on a plan on the way there. What say you?" Personally I would favour tracking them back to their base of operations if they have one. It would allow us to destroy the problem at it's root, rather then simply prune a few of the branches."

As he says this, Carric starts into a slightly quicker, but still cautious gait. "I am far from the most perceptive of individuals, but i can see in the dark." He banishes the flame from his claw, gripping his crossbow with both hands. Blasted skin walker just had to go ahead on his own.. he thinks to himself as he stalks into the jungle in the east.



Stealth Check: [roll0]

Perception Check: [roll1]

[St.Just]

Philippe, distracted by his fruitless search of the camp, rushed to keep up with his companions. Turning to Carric, he said
"That requires them to return to their base before they notice us, doesn't it? Given our circumstances, I would say grabbing a captive is our best chance of getting some information before charging into what may well be prepared fortifications. Besides, if they're intelligent I should be able to get something from an interrogation, even if they don't want to talk.

Looking back at the massacre, and forward at his companions charging into combat, Philippe gripped the crystalline prism that served as his focus and stared deeply into it for a moment as he muttered a few incantations. The air around him began to catch the air and moonlight oddly as his abjuration flickered into being. Digging his crossbow from his pack as he walked, Philippe went over the options available to him in his mind and prepared for any coming violence.

Using a first-level slot to cast Mage Armor, boosting my AC to 16

Perception [roll0]

Stealth [roll1]

[Let'sGetKraken]

Carric, Alton, and Philippe scramble as quietly as they can to keep up with Lyral, who stalks through the jungle towards the distant lights with a determined gleam in his eyes. As he pushes his way through the dense undergrowth, he can hear the whispers grow gradually louder until he spots a small clearing up ahead - the source of the whispers. All of sudden, as he approaches the empty clearing, the whispers abruptly stop. Though his view is obscured by the think vines that drape themselves across every tree, he catches a glimpse of motion across the clearing as the source of the flickering light plunges into the jungle. It is impossible to tell more from your current position.

Lyral, you have the opportunity to act now before the others catch up, since you used your action to dash. Once you do, I'll post an update. If you choose enter the clearing, I'll use that perception check you already rolled.

[3SecondCultist]

As Lyral moves towards the edge of the clearing, he swaps his staff out for his bow and notches an arrow to the string. Better if I take a shot from the darkness. His gaze sweeps between the spaces, following the shadow as it recedes further. In all likelihood, it already knows it is being followed. It would be wiser him to prepare for a counter-attack than it is to remain hidden at this point. Dropping the perception spell, he renders the group visible even as he finishes casting another protective enchantment. Great plates of oak bark crawl up his skin, forming hard ridges where there used to be skin.

He doesn't even register the others trying to catch up. His focus is on his new prey. Once he's sure that he is ready to take his first shot, Lyral steps into the clearing.

I'm dropping Concentration on Pass without Trace to replace it with Barkskin (exhausting my 2nd level spell slots until a long rest), and pulling out my shortbow. Shillelagh lasts for another 9 rounds regardless of what I'm wielding, and doesn't use Concentration.

[Let'sGetKraken]

As Lyral steps into the clearing, he feels a sinking sensation in his gut - something is terribly wrong. The twin points of flickering orange light are now clearly visible past the trees that make up the treacherous jungle. They come not from torches, however - in fact, there is nothing there except twin balls of flickering orange-yellow light, bobbing gently up and down in the darkness of the night.

And then they disappear, as if they never existed, and everything goes horribly wrong.

All around Lyral, the whispers resume as what he had first taken to be tangled masses of vines detach themselves from the trees at the edge of the clearing. The writhing masses of vines - seven of them, in fact - hiss in broken, fractured voices as they stalk towards him, whispering of death, decay, and slaughter.

Roll Initiative, guys. The players who aren't currently in the clearing will miss out on the first turn.

[3SecondCultist]

When the ghost-lights shift out of sight and the trees begin to move, Lyral reacts quite quickly. They had set a trap for him. He should have seen it - weren't his senses normally more reliable than this? He wasn't always this easy to fool. His bow won't be as useful to him now, not when these things can get in close. Vine blights. He remembers the name. They're a species of sentient plant, vicious. They're predators in their own right, and this is not the first time he's encountered their type. The ghost-lights are something new... but he doesn't have the time to deal with that.

A few moments later, a monstrous spider appears in Lyral's place. Great follicles of hair and eight eyes stare out at the glade, enhanced senses scouring every blade of grass for his enemies. Moving out of range of the blights' attacks, the spider clambers up one of the nearby trees with ease. Up in the canopy, they shouldn't be able to get him.

Bonus action to use my second Wild Shape to turn into a Giant Spider, and then using the Disengage action to get out of the clearing and into the jungle canopy, 5 ft to the left and then back 20 ft.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The vine blights rear back, confused as to why their once vulnerable-looking prey is now much larger than before. However, driven by primordial hunger and instinct, they recover quickly and rush forwards towards the spider. The closest one to Lyral instead reaches to the trees before it and exert its corrupt power upon the jungle. The vines and foliage around the spider suddenly lash out, seeking to entangle it and prevent its escape.

The spider, however, has slightly bigger problems. Through its advanced senses, Lyral notices the two hovering spheres of light blocking his retreat. Though they make no hostile move, their intention is clear - any attempt to escape will be met with resistance.

Vine Blight #1 (the number in the blue circle) will advance 10 ft and use its Entangling Plants ability. The jungle around it for 30 ft. is now difficult terrain, and any creatures within must make a DC 12 str check or be restrained. Looking at you, Lyral :smalltongue:. All the other Vine Blights will dash forwards. THe will-o-the-wisps will have used their first and second turns to move 100 ft. to cut off your escape route, though they take no other action.

[3SecondCultist]

In his new spider form, Lyral makes his way through the upper leaves of the jungle glade. Although the vines do move in to constrict him, his new form proves more than strong enough to shake off their embrace as he closes in on the nearest glowing light. His senses are more than adequate to see these creatures now. Mandibles clacking loudly to alert the oncoming party members of the invisible threat, the spider moves in close to bite one of the creatures and try to sap their essence. Let's see how tough you are when someone closes in on you.

[St.Just]

Swearing as he ran into the battleground and saw the strange floating lights and vine monsters, Philippe wracked his brain for some solution to their predicament. After a moment, his expression turned to a tight grin and he muttered "Been meaning to try this out for a while I suppose."

All but running forward until he was just a few paces from the nearest blight, he dug into his pouch and withdrew a few strands of spiders silk. Swiftly weaving them between his fingers as he chanted and, after a moment, refracted moonlight from his prism seemed to catch and dissolve the web. Apparently carried by moonlight, the shred of spider's silk was recreated on a grand scale before him as a massive web anchored itself to trees on either side of the path and buried four of the blight's within it.

Using a lvl 2 slot to cast Web after running 25ft down the path. A 20ft cube should catch every Blight on the right side of the path, and the one in the top-right of the left side. DC 14 Str save or they're restrained.

Also, knowledge checks to learn about Blight's and Wisp's
[roll0]
[roll1]

[GameOfChampions]

As Alton comes onto the scene he takes in the the writhing vines in the clearing in front of him, he looks around for Lyral but can't see him 'whatever that dumb-ass can deal whatever he ran into on his own, serves him right for running ahead with no idea whats ahead and without us.' The pissed halfling looks at the writhing vines and thinks 'Well if we want find the big guy we need to deal with these first'. Alton runs ahead a little ways loading and pulling back his short bow he slides to a stop a short distance from the first of the vines and take a quick shot.


Alton runs up 25 feet and takes a shot at the closest vine thats just on the right and takes a look around if he can spot lyral
1d20+6 To hit the first vine
1d6+4 for damage
Also a perception check to see if i can notice the giant spider and anything else i guess
1d20+6 and 1d20+6

[n0ble]

Well this went south fast Carric thinks to himself sarcastically as he sees the vine creatures in the clearing. He starts to utter an incantation as he hurries up the beaten path. As he does, the warmth that had been present in his body starts to slowly travel down to his hands, the heat coalescing into flames in his hand and claw. As he lets the flame grow, it envelopes his hands. Finally, a chance for me to cut loose, he thinks, cackling manically as he directs twin bolts of flame at the vine-things Phillipe had ensnared. "BURN!"


Running 10ft down the path and 15ft to the left

Expending 1 Sorcery Point to Twin Fire Bolt at the two ensnared vine blights.
(rolling with advantage cause they're restrained)

Vine Blight 1 (the one closest to Phillipe):
To hit:[roll0] or [roll1]

Damage if it hits: [roll2]

Vine Blight 2:
To hit:[roll3] or [roll4]

Damage if it hits: [roll5]

[Let'sGetKraken]

To the left, Carric, Alton, and Philippe can see the vine blights moving underneath the giant spider - who you pray is the predatory druid and not a foe - to attack you. Fortunately for you, Philippe's entangling spell has kept the blights on the right from flanking you - though as one tears free of the sticky webbing, you wonder how long that will last. Moving towards the frail wizard, it continues to hiss of death and murder in the broken, fractured voice of it's presumably long-dead creator, though the burn where the sorcerer's blast struck it seems to causing it no small amount of pain.

Alton's arrow has struck true, and along with the sorcerer's flames, the blight still entangled in the webbing seems to be losing more and more mass every second, as the slithering mass of vines that makes up its countenance sloughs off in a desperate attempt to save itself from destruction.

Finally, the three of you are distracted by twin flashes of eldritch lightning above you. Where there had been only empty space, you can see the flickering orbs of light - the malevolent creatures that you had once taken for torchlight. In their anger at being attacked (though the spider's bite was ineffectual), they have lashed out and discarded their invisibility.

[3SecondCultist]

Lyral's attack doesn't seem to have done anything of significance to the ghost-lights, but at least the spider notices that they're visible to the naked eye now. So the others will be able to see them - good. There isn't much use in trying to fight these things head on, as their own counterattacks just missed him. He wouldn't much like to be on the receiving end of one of their blasts. He has hunted in a pack before, and he angrily reprimands himself for charging in without giving the others any consideration. He wasn't always so careless.

The spider searches for a way out of the wisps' reach, and looks down at the rest of the group's composition. He can position himself in the trees above them, and get ready to keep the blights busy. With any luck, the ghost-lights won't follow him over here, and they can focus their fire on them after they've dealt with the murderous plants. Scuttling across the higher tree-tops, the spider settles on one of the larger trees to survey the combat.

Disengage action, moving 10 ft up and 20 ft across. Check the Roll20 for my movement. Since I'm large, I don't need to make an Athletics check for the 5-ft gap as there is always at least half of my mass on a tree. I am now 25 ft off the ground.

[St.Just]

Philippe swore loudly as most of the blights managed to avoid entanglement or break free from the webs. Glancing nervously around at the Blight's surrounding him and realizing that running was unlikely to end well, he muttered to himself "Well, time for something unsubtle."

Reaching out and grasping hold of the weak light available, the mage wove it into a burning sigil in the air before him. With a final word and harsh gesture from him, it burst forward in a sudden inferno engulfing the two already injured Blight's.


Casting burning hands as a lvl 1 slot so the cone catches both the blights recently firebolted. 3d6 Fire damage with a DC 14 Dex save for half.

Blight 6
[roll0]
Blight 7
[roll1]

[Let'sGetKraken]

At the deluge of fire, the blight still entangled in the web disintegrates into ash. The remain blight before Philippe looks like it isn't far off from joining its comrade, as most of its mass has been seared off.

[GameOfChampions]

Looking at the blight Philippe just damaged Alton sees a chance to take the monster by surprise, so with a careful eye on the blights pressing in on him on the left he slowly moves away and into the jungle avoiding the lashing vines then as he stops beside Carric. As he stands beside the sorcerer he draws his arrow back and sights the damaged blight beside Philippe and as he shoots it he yells out "Why are we fighting these things? Why don't we just retreat and make our way back to the main path and make our way after the raiders from there?"


I use Disengage as a bonus action and move beside Carric, then i take a shot at the blight beside Philippe.
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage: [roll]3d6+4[\roll]
Knowledge nature: [roll1]

[n0ble]

"As much as that seems like a good idea my small colleague, whats to stop them from simply following us back to wherever we retreat to? Besides, if we don't remedy this problem and run into these 'raiders' we may have to fight a battle on two fronts, something which I doubt we could win. Besides, it's not as if we're fairing poorly in this current conflict."

As if to punctuate this statement, Carric sketches a complex sigil in the air uttering several complex words. As if on cue, the air around him compresses into four dart-like objects. He continues his incantation, sketching the same sigil in the air again while also letting go of more of the warmth in his body, causing four more darts to materialize around him. With a lazy gesture, Carric raises his hand and points all eight darts of super compressed air at the nearest glowing ball of energy


Casting Magic Missile as a second level spell. Using 2 Sorcery Points to quicken another 2nd level magic missile, for a total of 3 sorcery points remaining.

Because magic missile hits automatically i'll roll all the damage at once.

[roll]8d4+8[\roll] force damage




As the eight darts zoom forward, Carric takes a couple of steps back to admire what they are about to do the glowing ball.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The rogue's arrow flies true, striking the blight in the centre of its mass. The fines slough off until nothing is left but a twister, knotted tangle of hatred and rage, which collapses into dust. Meanwhile, the sorcerer's barrage obliterates the already injured wisp. With a small popping sound, its light is permanently extinguished.

The vine blights will continue to advance towards the three of you with single-minded purpose. Two of them reach down and unleash their hatred into the foliage, which rises up and attempts to ensnare the three of you who are still on the ground. The remaining vine blights will attack the wizard closest to them; though two miss, the third latches onto him and restrains him.

The will-o'-wisp, on the other hand, will soar over your heads to attack the sorcerer, unleashing a furious blast of lightning.

[3SecondCultist]

As the sorcerer manages to block the will-o-wisp's attack, Lyral finds himself impressed. He has underestimated these adventurers, a mistake he does not intend on repeating. A surge of resentment overtakes the morphed druid, as he realizes each of them has done more hunting than he has. He is among equals, at the very least. I can subdue these awful plants in this form. The spell that the Phillipe cast is a good example of what he is about to do.

From up in its newfound perch, the spider gathers up dozens - no, hundreds - of sticky fibers from between its mandibles, firing them off in a projectile towards the vine blight that is currently holding the mage. If he can keep them in position, maybe the others can finish them off.

Shooting a web at Vine Blight #4 (the one that actually hit Phillipe and has restrained him). He's restrained, and must make a DC 12 Strength check as an action to break free. Basically, it's the same thing as their attack, except that I get to do it from further away.

[St.Just]

To his own great surprise, Philippe managed to avoid being ensnared by the undergrowth agitated by the Blight's, breaking free of any looping around his limbs. As such, he was distracted when the Blight directly attacking him managed to hit, snarling in pain and surprise as the Blight's burned through the last of his defensive fateweaving, and one managed to avoid his abjuration and hopelessly entangle him.

Turning to look at the vine creature entrapping him, he used what little freedom of motion he had to gather sparks from the burning remnants of his web and form them into another sigil of fire. With a final snarl of Ignan, he expelled an empowered version of the same spell that had proved effective before.


Casting Burning Hands in a level 2 slot at the webbed Blight constricting me and the one behind it. DC 14 Dex save for half damage, for which 4 has disadvantage.
Blight 4
[roll0]

Blight 3
[roll1]

[GameOfChampions]

Blinking his eyes to clear the spots from the blast of flame Alton sees the scorched blights and sights the one behind Philippe. He fires his arrow at its back trying to clear the boxed in wizard a path to escape.

As he lets the arrow fly at the unsuspecting blight he calls up to the glowing ball of light "Hey you! Shiny! I'm sorry we attacked you but I have a better idea then trying to kill each other. If you join me then you can feed of of those we fight, lure more creatures to their doom in a couple months with us then years in this dark forest. And." Alton grins a bit as he mentions this part "You can enjoy the pain of the two that attacked you whenever they get injured. Just think savoring the pain of those that wronged you for months or possibly years."

I fire an arrow at the blight behind Philippe and then try to talk to the wisp to either make it back down or join us.
To hit: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] and [roll2]
Persuasion: [roll3]

[n0ble]

As the ball of light's lightning arcs off the ephemeral shield Carric summoned, he hears what the halfling says to the creature. "This freakish little thing just tried to blitz me and your looking to make a friend out of it?! It's not going to survive long enough to enjoy anyone's pain." Especially mine he thinks to himself, conjuring four more darts of air into existence. He compliments them by letting go of all but the smallest amount of warmth in his body, causing three more darts to more darts to form before sending them all at the glowing oddity. The cold settles deep into his bones after he directs the darts, but it is worth it to see what they do to the whispering orb. Besides, he thinks to himself reflectivley, it is as nothing compared to the cold I've grown up in.


Using my final remaining 2nd level spell slot to casts magic missile. expending 2 sorcery points to cast a 1rst level magic missile as a bonus action. Sending all 7 darts at the wisp.

7d4 +7

[Let'sGetKraken]

As the wizard's cone of flame and the rogue's arrow nearly destroy another three of the foul blights, the vicious plants barely seem to register the damage they've taken - despite horrible wounds, they press their attack at the restrained Philippe. Though two of them miss, another two strike, and strike hard.

At Alton's attempt at persuasion, however, the wisp speaks for the first time. "You destroyed my brother. I will not rest until the elf's bones are dust."

Carric chooses that moment to strike, launching a magical deluge of force at the distracted wisp. As the darts strike, the wisp winks out of existence for the last time.

The wisp is dead. Congrats! Unfortunately, Philippe just took 18 bludgeoning damage, putting him at 3 health. Save the squishy wizard!

[3SecondCultist]

As the blights move forward and overwhelm Phillipe, the spider realizes that the man doesn't have long. He, like the rest, has held his own against the blights, but his physical form is weak. Look at him, he's pretty much dead already. Lyral knows that his usefulness in this form is limited, and the webs he gathered won't be of much use anymore.

Dropping back down through the foliage until he is just outside of the blight's reach, the spider finds a large enough branch and transforms back into the man. The ghost-lights are gone now, and he's confident that he will be able to get rid of these things. It's a pity about Phillipe. The spell comes with the smell of an oncoming storm, a faint gust of wind blowing through the leaves around him as he releases a pulse of sonic energy outward. Idly, Lyral wonders if the others will be harmed by it.

Moving 10 ft down on the tree to 15 ft off the ground, using my bonus action to revert back into regular form, and then casting Thunderwave in a 15 ft cube emanating from me.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The thunderous shockwave ripples outwards, blasting two of the blights back and nearly killing another. Two of the plants look like they can barely remain standing, let alone attack. Unfortunately, the force of the blast knocks Philippe unconscious, where he lies bleeding and broken on the ground.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton braces against the wave of sonic energy, leaning into it to stop himself from tipping over he also has to take a deep breath to get his breath that had just been knocked out of his lungs and blinks a couple times to clear his shook head. After the sensation goes away he focuses on the damaged blight immediately to his left and takes a quick shot right at the center of its mass.

Curiously the halfling looks around to see the source of the sonic wave and spots the man they hadn't seen the entire fight. Furious Alton shouts at the man "Curse you Lyral! This is all your fault! You should have stayed in the damn forest!". Muttering under his breath Alton looks back at more pressing problem at hand 'I'll deal with him later'.

Alton shoots the vine two squares to the left of him
Attack Roll: second attack roll [roll]1d20+6
Damage: [roll1]

[n0ble]

As the wave of nausea passes through his bod, Carric recovering his composure just in time to see the blast catch Phillipe. The amusement he felt at destroying the two wisps evaporates as he sees the wizard crumple to the ground. Whipping his head around to the source of the blast, he bellows at Lyral "Who side are you on you ****ing savage?!". If Phillipe dies, so does the big man. The anger inside him builds as he entertains the thought, fire emanating from both his hands as he directs one blast at the vine-thing looming over Phillipe, the other at the creature behind the vine blight Alton has shot.


Roll to break restraint: [roll0]

Expending my final sorcery point to twin fire bolt at them.
Roll to hit the one next to Phillipe: [roll1]
Damage roll for the one next to Phillipe: [roll2]

Roll to hit the one outside the entanglement field: [roll3]
Damage roll for the one outside the entangling field: [roll4]

[Let'sGetKraken]

Having knocked their prey unconscious, the blights turn their attention to their conscious prey. Lumbering towards the sorcerer and rogue, the closest one lashes out at Alton.

Vine Blight 1: [roll0] and [roll1]
Vine Blight 1: [roll2]

[3SecondCultist]

Upon watching Phillipe's fall and hearing the outraged cries of his new companions, Lyral pauses. Were his actions unjust? What had he done wrong? He had pushed the enemy blights back, severely wounding one of them in the process. Why are they cursing me? Phillipe was a stranger. Lyral didn't care if the man lived or died, surely the others hadn't formed such a strong bond this quickly? But he thinks back to the wolves again. It was always the wolves. Even at a young age, the relationship between members of their pack was familial. There is a line, he supposes, between leaving the wounded for dead and actually wounding your own pack.

Descending from the trees as carefully as he can, Lyral alights next to the fallen wizard. He will do what he can to bring Phillipe to fighting condition. Not out of sentiment, he reminds himself. But because actually accomplishing the task set out before him might be too much for him to handle alone. Every hunter needs a pack. Touching his hands into the ruptured man's flesh, Lyral mutters, "Men'we" under his breath. Slowly, the skin begins to knit together. Hopefully, Phillipe will be standing again soon.

Moving down the rest of the tree, drawing my shortbow and then casting Cure Wounds on Phillipe. It heals [roll0] hp, which should be enough to bring him back into the realm of positive hitpoints. I think the movement down the trees requires an Athletics check since its 15 ft, so I'll roll one here as well.

Athletics: [roll1]

[St.Just]

With a sudden gasp, Philippe came back to consciousness. Trying to ignore the bizarre feeling of his bruises fading and his ribs reconnecting, he gave the Lyral a pointed glance "Let's TRY to keep that from being nescesary again, yeah?

Turning to face the Blight closest to him, working around the vines still entangling him and gathered another burst of flame from the environment, sent to blasting towards the Blight


Burning hands (lvl 1) at Blight 3
[roll0]

[Let'sGetKraken]

The blight disintegrates in the burst of flame from the irate wizard, crumbling to ash. The two remaining blights, though not particularly intelligent, recognize that they have no hope of feeding. The mass of vines that make up their bodies collapse into their individual components, which quickly become indistinguishable from the surrounding vegetation.

You have won your first encounter! Congrats! You may search the grove after freeing youselves with an investigation check. You may now deliberate on what to do next, hopefully having learned a valuable lesson about sharing information.

[GameOfChampions]

As the blights turn to ash Alton surveys the group 'Hmmm I'll see how this turns out.' With that thought on his mind he glances around surreptitiously before quickly disappearing into the brush.

Alton climbs up the canopy 10 ft and makes a stealth check to hide (both from the group and anything else that may be around) Then a perception check to see if he can notice anything else.
Stealth check: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1] and disadvantage if there aren't enough things on fire to light it up [roll2]

[n0ble]

Upon cutting himself out from the creatures entangling vines, Carric strides over to the prone Phillipe, cutting him out of the webbing before offering him a clawed hand up He's grown stronger since last we met.. He keeps his crossbow trained on Lyral the entire time, locking eyes with him. Theres unpredictable, and then theres dangerous. And then theres both together. Dam and blast it. "And here I was thinking you were a practical man." he sneers mockingly. "I don't know about the rest of you but I could do with some rest after this little excursion. Though that does pose the problem of where to rest." he states in a bored tone, reflexively cracking his neck to release some of the tension out of it. "This forest seems... less than civil, and given what we just went through I'd rather not sleep here. That being said, sleeping amongst corpses and ash seems equally unappealing. Either way, I'd feel a lot safer knowing where whatever destroyed our rendezvous point is."



Investigation Check: [roll0]

[3SecondCultist]

As the vine blights disappear, Lyral puts away his weapons. Seeing Alton disappear and Carric approach, he takes a couple of steps backwards. They seem to be more than angry with him. He is half expecting an arrow in his back any minute. And yet, Phillipe is in a better state due to his curative magics than he was before Lyral actually cast his sonic wave spell. Lyral nods at the wounded wizard. It's not quite an apology, and he wouldn't admit that kind of weakness out loud anyhow. And yet, he is truly sorry for the pain he caused the magic-man. There is more to these three than I thought at first. He smiles easily. "I did wound the blights though, didn't I?" He knows that it was quite probably the turning point of the battle.

Whipping his green cloak around his shoulders, Lyral takes stock of his surroundings. He'd be the first to admit that heading into this clearing was a foolish choice on his part. A smart hunter would have checked the entire perimeter, instead of moving blindly. And there is still the matter of the village. Lyral looks up into the trees, quickly spotting Alton's hidden form. The little-man is adept at staying out of sight, but there is no escaping his senses. "I can find us food and shelter out here." He doesn't want to go back into the ruins if he can help it. Not if there is the possibility of more of those ghost-lights showing up. He doesn't like the odds of fighting any more monsters out here before dawn.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton watches the two mages rejoin the hunter and though there seems like a little bit of tension between Carric and Lyral but nothing comes of it, Alton shrugs and starts to climb down from his hiding place torn between gladness that fighting wasn't breaking out between the group and annoyance that the grizzled hunter didn't have some sort of karmic retribution. 'Ohhh well If something happens then it happens. I can't start a brawl right now, we need some down time.'

Alton slowly picks his way through the brush and rejoins the group, looking at the everyone he sees how tired and run down everyone was. 'Who am I kidding I could use a good nights sleep as well.' Instead of thinking about the nice tavern beds back in Quarros he starts looking around "Where do you guys think we should rest? I don't think anywhere in the forest is going to be safe, I think as uncomfortable as it would be we should head back to the village and find shelter in one of the sturdier looking buildings that are left. What do you all think?" After looking around the clearing Alton adds "After we look around for anything that could be laying around here."

Then as a quick aside to Lyral "If we could all work as a group we could get more done, just stop running into forests alone like an idiot and talk to us." After his comment the small halfling goes back to scanning the area for anything that may be of use or possible threats.

I know it's pointless after cultists but may as well
Investigation: [roll0]
Also a Perception check to notice anything in the clearing: [roll1]
P.s I don't know if i make to many perception checks but i figure may as well make them and not need them.

[St.Just]

Accepting Carric's helping hand, Phillipe dusted himself off and examined his wounds. Grimacing at just how bad he looked, he nodded in agreement when the other's mentioned stopping for the night. "Probably wise, yes. I could certainly use the rest, exhilarating though that was. The village perhaps? We'd be able to put some distance between us and the trees at least.

Looking around the clearing for anything unusual, Philippe mused "Though, perhaps those Blight's were drawn here for a reason. It would be remiss of us not to try and find out.

Investigating the clearing
[roll0]

[3SecondCultist]

As the last of the blood-lust has finally faded, Lyral takes a few cautious steps towards the center of the clearing. Since those blights were occupying this area, chances are there aren't any other hunters nearby. That is, unless the universe decides to be particularly cruel. Sniffing the air twice for any animal scents, Lyral begins to dig. With one arm, he waves the others over. Whatever it is, it's possible that the blights were guarding it.

Rolling for Perception again, on the dirt as I'm unearthing it.

Perception: [roll0]

[Let'sGetKraken]

As Lyral churns through the dirt, the remainder of you shrug off the last of the entangling vines and make your way into the grove. As you do, you are aware of the two vine blights standing immobile on the other side of the clearing. Though you immediately draw your weapons - or, in the case of Carric and Philippe, feel the magic flow to your fingertips - they make no hostile movements. While this grove may well be their home, it seems like they understand that the four of you are predators, not prey.

After half a minute of digging, during which your eyes never leave the blights, Lyral's hands find something other dirt. To your horror, you have uncovered a pit into which the previous victims of the blights have been thrown. Though you can only see a few corpses in the ground, none of them particularly fresh, there are undoubtedly more beneath.

Several items catch your eye, however. While it might not be a good idea to desecrate the grove by digging up the bodies that sustain the blights, there are a few things on the visible corpses that might prove useful. First of all, there seems to be several stoppered glass vials with a moderate amount of bright red liquid inside, scattered between piles of gold and silver coins. Next to the potions is a glass jar, filled with a green-grey, oily paste. On a different body, you see a small pouch. Closer inspection reveals it to be filled with some sort of brown dust.

The most interesting item, however, seems to be a small, thin rod, able to comfortably fit within a closed fist. On one end is a small button, and the rod itself is covered in arcane markings that glow with an eerie yellow light.

The potions are common potions of healing.
The ointment is Keoghtom's ointment, and the pouch contains dust of dryness.
The rod is what is called a spiritcatcher, though in reality it absorbs magical and spiritual energy to generate a permanent "imprint" of its surrounding. Pressing the button allows it to replicate the imprinted energy pattern for a short period of time.. Judging by the way that the runes glow yellow, this one has already been imprinted by a specific energy pattern.

[GameOfChampions]

As Alton surveys the loot all the frustration and adrenaline from the combat fades away and all that remains is a nice glow of satisfaction, and if the little halfling was being honest a bit of greed. One thing among the items in the pile of bodies, Alton crouches down beside the small hole and, ignoring the bodies, delicately picks up the small stick with the arcane markings and looks it over. "So what do you guys think this thing is?" He looks around with a curious look on his face and then a little grin starts to tug on his lips "Do you guys dare me to press the button?"

"So after we gather this stuff up lets head back to the village, I can keep watch for Philippe since I think he may need more rest then I do." Alton says as he looks at the exhausted and injured man beside him.

[n0ble]

Carric forces a smile at the halflings words,"Perhaps when we're in a less volatile situation my friend.Plenty of time to fiddle around with that bauble while were resting. However I do agree, the village would make a better defensive point." Besides there might be more warmth I can siphon there. he thinks to himself, No telling what the skin walker might try if he sees weak prey. "I think we all could use some rest honestly, to the village then?"

Carric doesn't wait for a reply, he stalks back the way they came, turning around once to fix Alton and Phillipe with a glance before jabbing his head in the direction of the village. He unholsters his crossbow as he strides away, wielding it with one hand as he conjures more flame into his claw with a practiced snap of his fingers. The fire seems more aggressive as it dances in his hand, as if reacting to the anger he's trying so hard to mask with civility...

[3SecondCultist]

"Agreed." Handing the others all of the items and trinkets beneath the ground, Lyral begins to make for the village. He has some serious thinking to do, alone. In the course of a day, much has changed. The druid sneaks the occasional glance at Alton, Carric, Phillipe. They're different somehow. I could have done much better for myself back there, if I had let them help me. Instead, I turned on them. It's the law of nature that the strong survive. But then why does he still feel guilt over it? It's not an emotion he's used to in the waking world.

Once he gets to the village, Lyral sets about finding a mostly-intact building that might serve as a shelter for the others. He can do this. Everyone has basic needs, and that includes sleep and a warm bed.

[Let'sGetKraken]

Philippe, having examined the items taken from the blights' victims, identifies them as a jar of magical healing ointment, dust of dryness, and the small rod - the spiritcatcher - as a magical battery of sorts. Its application, however, can wait for another day. With one last glance at the grove behind you, the four of you trudge wearily back to the village, where you attempt to find shelter for the night. In this, you are moderately successful; though all the wooden buildings are burnt down, you are able to rig a tarp from the ruins of one house to another before turning in for the night.

Oh, and what a miserable night it is. The rain starts about an hour after all of you, except the one on watch, attempt to get some sleep. The rain drenches the earth around you, and the cold dampness makes for a very uncomfortable night. This jungle, filled with strange magics and creatures, is unnerving, and you greet the dawn with a profound sense of relief. Fully rested, the four of you are anxious to find the unmarked camp and finish your mission, though it will take much in the way of skillful navigation to avoid getting lost.

Feel free to talk to each other in-chat as you depart. Lyral (or whoever wants to try their hand at navigation), you need to roll two survival checks. You can use animal enhancement if you wish, but keep in mind that you may not have the chance to rest before finding the unmarked.

[GameOfChampions]

Packing up his bag Alton takes a swig from his flask before packing it, after hes done he straightens up and does a giant stretch and says "Ugh. Well that was a pretty miserable night, but I guess I feel better then i did last night. So I'm ready to head on out to the camp and just finish this unfortunate business up."

As they pack up camp and start to head out the halfling starts to fidget, bored with the ongoing chores. So Alton tries to strike up some convorsation. "So what about you guys? Anyone got any plans for after this?"

[Let'sGetKraken]

As you enter the temple of Tryndaan, god of magic, it is clear that something is very wrong. The temple is eerily quiet; no sounds echo through the empty corridors. The runepriests are nowhere to be found, and the walls, ceilings, and floors of the temple are cracked and crumbled around you. As you step over the threshold, those of you with magical abilities feel what little ambient magic remains recharge your spells. All across the foyer lie the lifeless remains of the animated constructs that protected this place before magic went out across the plane.

As you walk further into the temple, the extent of the devastation is clear. Pieces of rubble litter the floor, and the once-beautiful murals on the walls are damaged beyond repair. You reach the great hall of the temple, where faint light streams in through the cracked and partially collapsed ceiling. There are several passageways that exit the room, but what catches your eye is a room on the far side of the hall. Those of you who have been here before recognize it as containing the Heart of Tryndaan, a magical artifact that is said to grant near-limitless powers to Tryndaan's chosen priests. Through the door, which has been knocked off its hinges, you are able to see the Heart shattered on the ground below where it used to flow. The eldritch white light that was once too bright to look at is gone, and the shattered pieces of the gigantic orb are now a dull grey.

Make a perception check as you post what you do. There are several corridors that lead off to the sides, and of course you are more than welcome to investigate the shattered artifact that lies ahead of you.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton swears under his breath as the group appears in the temple, taking in the wreckage and destruction "I could be wrong but somehow I don't think it is supposed to look like this normally." Alton whispers over to Carric. After he spots the shattered Heart of Tryndaan Alton starts to get a sense of unease as he enters the area and just starts to lag one step behind the rest of the group fading into the group and slightly out of sight. As he walks a bit behind the group he starts looking around to see what could have possibly caused this, or if any of the priests had survived, any sort of clue as to what had happened.

Alton makes a stealth check to hide behind Lyral as they walk into the temple and then makes a perception check to see if something was around
Rolls:
Stealth: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]

[3SecondCultist]

Lyral examines the devastation with a careful gaze. His magic has returned... but for how long? What kind of force did this? He admits that he wasn't the first to volunteer for a mission of this scope. Truth be told, the idea of 'civilized society' - words that he understands, but leave a bad taste in his mouth - collapsing gives him a thrill. And yet, he wants his power back. In his hands, the faded staff looks somewhat more delicate than his simple wooden bo, and yet he can feel its strength. It has no magic to give, and yet he will hold on to it. To use such a formerly powerful artifact as a blunt instrument amuses him.

Taking the first steps over the threshold, Lyral looks at the others. Did their magic return as his just did? And what about the orb in the middle of the chamber, now lying dull? This kind of magic is beyond him. He will let Phillipe and Carric figure it out. But his eyes are still useful - maybe he can help the pack in that way. The druid follows Alton, trying to keep low to the ground and keeping his eyes peeled for threats in the immediate area.

Rolls! I'm also going to cast Enhance Ability to get advantage on Wisdom checks for up to an hour, taking one of my 2nd level spell slots.

Stealth: [roll0]

Perception: [roll1] and [roll2], taking the higher of the two rolls.

[n0ble]

You are correct. I highly doubt this is ordinary, even for an institution of the marked. Carric creates a small flame in his hand, keeping it pointed squarely ahead along with his crossbow. It feels good to have the warmth return to his body. Whatever did this has some serious power behind it. Best to let the skin walker go first, he looks like he can take a hit he idly thinks to himself, falling in behind Lyral as he does. His eyes scan the ruins of the temple for any perceived danger.



[roll0] for perception

[St.Just]

Looking around the temple with a mixture of amazement and horror, Philippe replied to Carric I assure you, this isn't what this place is usually like.

Seeing the cracked Heart, a look of disbelief fell over the wizard's face That..that shouldn't be possible. The Heart's one of the most powerful items in the world, anyone who even tried to break it should have been reduced to ash...

Giving the rest of the temple a cursory look, he mostly focused on the broken Heart, wracking his mind for any insight on what might have caused this and muttering some incantations to hopefully guide him to the correct thought.


Perception [roll0]
Rolling Arcana&religion to try and figure out what might have caused this. However, using my 19 augury for one (for a result of 25).

And because a 20 is possible [roll1]

[Let'sGetKraken]

This would take either unfathomable strength or nearly unprecedented magical might to shatter this thing. There are maybe two people in the entire plane capable of not only of bypassing the arcane wards created by some of the most powerful clerics on Everell, but also damaging (let alone shattering) a focus for raw, divine magical energy such as this one.

The Heart itself namely served to channel Tryndaan's energy, concentrating it in this particular location. If you recall correctly, it constantly refreshed the spell slots of all of Tryndaan's priests; while in the temple, the priests had access to unlimited magical energy and were therefore able to constantly perform the marking process. Which, of course, makes its destruction all the more disturbing - where are the priests? They had enough energy to fight off nearly any assault. Surely they could have prevented this.

(Since you rolled a 25) It's also interesting to note that this doesn't make any sense. The amount of magical energy naturally residing in the Heart should have cause an enormous arcane explosion upon its shattering. But that doesn't seem to be consistent with the damage to the temple.

As for the effect of its destruction, Tryndaan's influence over this particular area would undoubtedly have been weakened, but no more so than it would be naturally outside the temple. Its destruction may have had other effects, but try as you might, you cannot think of anything else (you would have needed a little bit higher on the religion side of things).

You notice a brief flash of movement near the corridor to your left. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a flicker of movement right next to a huge (about 10 feet wide and 5 feet tall) piece of rubble that has fallen from the ceiling.

[GameOfChampions]

As Alton sees the brief movement he immediately assumes the worst and draws his bow along with an arrow knocked at the string. As he readies his weapon he tries to fade out of view. As he does this he mutters out of his mouth "Whoever did this seems to still be hanging around. Lets be ready and see if it attacks." He looks at Lyral "Big man this may be the time to beast out." Then at Carric he just grins and mutters out of the side of his mouth "Get ready to burn this ****** to the ground."

Alton makes a stealth check to hide behind any rubble if there is any any or a party member if there isn't any.
Rolls:
Stealth: [roll0]

[n0ble]

I thought you'd never ask Carric replays to Phillipe, smiling as he does. The small flame that was already in his hand swells to encompass his entire hand. Whatevers behind there can probably see us, why would it run away otherwise? Best make myself look as threatening as possible to draw attention away from the little fellow. He points his hand and crossbow squarely at the rubble. "Feel like rushing in to flush out whatever might behind there big man?" he says to Lyral, his tone only half-mocking. "Try dragging it out into the open so we can light it up" At the mention of the word light his flame briefly turns from orange to blue then back to orange.

[3SecondCultist]

"It would be my pleasure." Nodding at Regis and Carric, Lyral stalks closer to the rubble, holding out his new shiny and casting his standard close combat spell. Whatever is behind there won't be hidden for long. The hunter's face is flushed in a grin. Maybe this prey will prove to be another fun challenge for the new pack?

Casting Shillelagh again, duration 1 minute. Lyral is also going to make another Perception check to try and spot what's around the rubble. Advantage still applies.

Perception I: [roll0] and Perception II: [roll1]

[Let'sGetKraken]

As you draw your weapons and channel your arcane energies, a voice rings out from behind the rubble. "Whoa, whoa! Don't shoot me! Or... shoot fire at me. Or stab me. Don't do any of those, please."

As he speaks, the man emerges from the wreckage with his hands above his head. Tall and muscular in a lean sort of way, he has dark, shoulder-length brown hair and is dressed in dirty leather armor. He snaps his fingers, and an abnormally large wolf bursts out from his former hiding place and sits obediently at his side.

"Sorry if I startled you, folks. I thought you might have been what did this to this temple." He smiles warmly as he extends a hand to whichever one of you is closest (presumably Lyral). "I'm Lieutenant Jesken. I'm part of the ranger company over in Deriel. I was out patrolling when I lost my rather limited magical abilities. Since I was in the area, I thought I'd come take a look." As he says this, his smile fades and his eyes grow dark. "Though I suppose I was too late."

Shaking his head to clear the unwelcome thoughts, he gestures to the side passages around him. "I've explored almost all of the upper levels. There's nothing to be found. No priests, no bystanders, no sign of who or what could have done this. You're welcome to join me in searching the depths of the temple, though. If there are any clues to be found, or any priests still alive, that's where they'll be."

[GameOfChampions]

Alton lets out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding and stands up from his crouch behind the rubble. "Damn it man! We almost killed you." He says with a laugh. "Good thing we didn't though. Nice to meet you Lieutenant I'm Alton. " he adds with a smile.

"So nothing on the upper levels huh, well ohh joy I can't wait to go searching around some dark basement halls." the halfling says with a small sigh. "There's always something hiding in the damn basement." the halfling mutters as he grimaces and rubs his arm where you can make out an old scar that looks suspiciously like a faint dog bite. "Well any way we should go sooner rather then later right guys?" He directs the last part of his statement to his compatriots.

[n0ble]

Theres no telling whether he could be a facsimile created by whatever did this or not. Carric thinks bitterly to himself. Especially if it's just him."You don't say" Carric responds to the ranger, looking around in an over exaggerated manner to make sure his sarcasm isn't lost on the man "Why not come with the entire company rather than just yourself? What are you supposed to be the ultimate bad*** or something?" The air around Carric becomes just a little bit colder as he says this, while his grip tightens on his crossbow.


Insight into what he's saying: [roll0]

Converting 1 first level spell slot into 2 sorcery points for a total of 6

[3SecondCultist]

Lyral chuckles. Carric's words are meant to poke, and he approves. But there is the lingering question of who this man is. Can they trust him? He was wandering these ruins alone, as the mage said. Maybe he's involved with... whatever it is that did all of this. The hunter vows to keep a close eye on the man, and his wolf. Lyral knows a thing or two about those kinds of animals, maybe the beast will tip him off to the man's betrayal. But his pack is right.

"We should keep moving. Whatever's in here is looking for new prey."

I'm rolling Insight on the man to see if his speech revealed any hidden motives. I still get advantage due to my spell.

Insight: [roll0] and [roll1], take the higher result.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The lieutenant's easygoing smile, made broader by Alton's friendly manner, fades as the sorcerer speaks. A frown on his face, he replies, "Hardly. The area around these parts is barely a threat, even to inexperienced rangers. The proximity to Tryndaan's temple makes it safe to patrol alone." At he says this, the wolf next to him growls in what you could swear is an indignant manner. "Well, not quite alone," Jesken laughs.

Growing serious, he continues,"I imagine there will be other rangers and scouting parties sent off by nearby communities, but it will take some time for them to get here without access to teleportation. We don't have time to wait. It's vital that we explore now, before the trail of whoever or whatever did this goes cold.

With that, the lieutenant walks towards the room holding the shattered Heart of Tryndaan. As he walks, he calls over his shoulder, "Whatever did this would have needed almost unprecedented magical power or strength. This is.. very strange." He picks up a lifeless fragment off of the ground. "Not to mention that this can't be the source of the plane-wide loss of magical energy. This is nothing but a conduit to strengthen Tryndaan's power. Speaking of which... its destruction should have obliterated the temple." Shaking his head, he gestures to a set of stairs that descend into the depths of the temple at the back of the room. "We should go deeper. The answer might lie within."

[n0ble]

"You might want to re-think the whole not a threat-this-place-is-super-safe thing" Carric says half jokingly, nudging a piece of rubble with his toe. "Are there any bodies to be found? That could explain what the **** went down here." No sense in rushing after things when we don't even know what did this

As the ranger trails into the room with the Heart of Tryndaan, Carric lingers behind him, keeping his crossbow trained squarely on the mans back. Can't be too carefulhe grimly thinks to himself before sliding beside Lyral and whispering "This whole situation stinks more than a troglodytes loins, we'd best keep an eye on the bowman and his pooch. No telling what could happen if things get pear shaped" before patting the big man on the shoulder with his claw in reassurance.

After the Lieutenants speech about how they should go deeper, Carric frowns "Thats a good plan and all, but are you sure you want to know the answer to whatever totalled an entire temple dedicated to the god of magic? Plus the people in it?"



Stealth Check if Needed for Whispering: [roll0]
Also, because Carric had runes before he burned them off, he'd know where the area is thats responsible for inscribing them right, correct?

[GameOfChampions]

Alton turns to Carric "Ya I don't think anyone is to thrilled to see what caused all this" he gestures to the destruction "But it is our job to figure out what's causing the magical blackout and this is probably our best best. So I think we should go to the lower levels to see whats going on. I'll lead".

Alton looks at the ranger "Come on then Lieutenant lets go take a look downstairs, I'm sure it doesn't need to be said but obviously stealth is key." Regis walks over to the stairs looks down them and starts to slowly make his way down just a couple steps as he waits for the others.

Rolls:
Perception: [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1]

Also Kraken my guys name is Alton not Regis

[3SecondCultist]

Lyral is surprised to find Carric's hand on his shoulder. I didn't know he considered us this close, yet. Ever since the jungle, the hunter figured that his actions have alienated him from the others. And yet, this lieutenant seems to have set all of them on edge. Pushing his wild mane from his eyes, Lyral nods at the magic user. He will be ready, should the need arise to protect the pack from the newcomer.

Not making any more rolls, but repeating the same question from the OOC thread: did the Insight rolls reveal anything about this 'Jesken' fellow?

[Let'sGetKraken]

Following the ranger, the four of you peer down the stairs and are greeted with darkness. Whatever magical lighting had once been present is now gone. At the sight of this, Philippe turns pale. "I h-have a bit of d-difficulty with small, d-d-dark places," he stammers. "W-whatever's down there, you're going to have to f-find it yourselves." Gulping audibly, the wizard turns and walks back to the hall. "I'll, erm, explore the upper rooms again. Can't be too careful."

It seems the only way to proceed is to light torches or rely on the limited access to darkvision that only Carric possesses.

Whoops! Sorry. Got your characters' names mixed up :P. Why did you switch to red text, out of curiosity?

Any of you who came here to receive your runes would have known that the marking ritual was generally done on the upper levels of the temple, in rooms set aside for this express purpose. None of you would have descended into the heart of the temple, as you are doing now.

The information I had Jesken given you would have been provided by Philippe, as he had rolled sufficiently high on his arcana roll. Figured I've withheld enough information already.

Also, as far as the four of you can tell, he seems perfectly genuine.

[n0ble]

"Safe travels old friend.Carry the fire." Carric says, extending his humanoid hand towards Phillipe in a gesture of genuine camaraderie. After seeing Phillipe leave, he shakes his head as if to clear unwanted thoughts from his mind, his face set in a tight smirk "Right, so you two can go ahead, I'll bring up the rear behind the big fellow, as I've no aptitude for the more stealthy arts. Plus that way I can blast whatever he doesn't suitably maul." He punctuates his point by jabbing a his claw at Lyral.

"Before we go anywhere though there's something I need to see." Carric says, drawing a knife from his belt and tossing at the feet of the ranger. "Draw blood, so that we know your not a facsimile created by whatever has done... this." He makes a sweeping gesture as he does this that encompasses the entire room. And then take me into the seat of the marked's power.

[GameOfChampions]

As the group approaches the encroaching darkness Alton contemplates it "Hmmm I think we should continue without light. It may put us at a disadvantage but its better then a torch screaming our presence to everyone who can see it." Alton looks at Carric "Either way this means that we'll be relying on you a lot and your vision." Alton looks into the darkened stairway and bounces on his toes a little while cracking his neck to get rid of the pre-job jitters.

[3SecondCultist]

"Agreed. I will go ahead, to scout the darkness." Lyral takes a couple of steps forward. His instincts tell him nothing about the tomb of dust and stone that this place has become, but he knows there are beasts in the walls. He will be ready for them.

Pulling out a rag, the druid wraps his torch in it and sets it ablaze. Whatever is down there will see them coming, but at least he won't be surprised again.

[Let'sGetKraken]

Jesken looks shocked. "What? Why would I - you think I'm responsible?" he sputters. "A... fascimile? Listen, whatever did this is probably long gone. Whatever caused this - presumably at the heart of the temple - happened close to an hour ago." He scowls at the sorcerer. "If it would set your mind to rest and get that damn crossbow pointed away from me, fine." He draws one of his swords and draws its blade lightly across his palm. Red blood wells up from the shallow cult as the wolf beside him growls. "Satisfied?"

Meanwhile, Lyral descends the stairs before you. The passageway here is ten feet tall and about fifteen feet wide, considerably smaller than the ones above. Magical markings adorn the once-smooth marble walls that are now crumbled and cracked. The floor is largely free of debris. The corridor stretches out further than the light of the torch can shine from the entrance. There is are no signs of priests or creatures hostile to you. \

Make an investigation check, please.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton looks at the torch "Fine just ignore me" he mutters under his breath. He shifts away as the wolf growls a little uneasy with the large wolf that could probably make the halfling its meal, as they walk up to the archway he looks at them wondering what they meant and what could have caused this.

Investigation: [roll0]

[n0ble]

"Quite" Carric responds with a sneer, content with the results of the Rangers actions. He stalks past the ranger, making sure to aim an angry scowl at his pet wolf. "If anything should happen to my cowardly comrade, I'm holding you responsible" he snarls at the wolf, though it is clearly directed at the ranger. He comes to a stop five feet before the big man, peering into the darkness ahead. He idly fingers the trigger on his crossbow, in anticipation of what the area ahead might


[roll0]

[3SecondCultist]

Once again, Lyral finds himself more than a little bit lost at the reactions of his companions. The whole point of them being here is to investigate this place. And besides, a life not lived is not worth living. Beasts don't grow old in the wilds because they are cautious - they take the opportunities presented them.

Finding nothing immediately hostile towards him in the lower corridor, Lyral takes to searching for any signs of recent disturbance. He doesn't immediately understand the magical symbols. Where are the magic-men when you need them? He calls for the others to follow him. This hallway is longer than even can see from here, so he'll need to head further in.

Making dem rolls, yo! Also, Lyral is moving 30 ft forward.

Investigation: [roll0]

Perception: [roll1] and [roll2], take higher.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The torchlight flickers down the empty corridor as you move through the entrance to the tunnel. Jesken takes a few steps into the darkness, and then lights a torch of his own. "Come on. Razorfang doesn't smell anyone else here. We should be safe to advance."

As you move down the tunnel, nothing seems to change. There are no signs of a struggle or of any priests. This part of the temple, though cracked and broken like the rest of the Fulcrum, seems largely untouched. After walking for about ten minutes, the tunnel opens up into a slightly larger space. A large, ornate door stands before you, more than twelve feet high and ten feet wide. It is carved out of a single block of marble and decorated with magical runes and precious gems, and the handles are carved into the shape of a rippling veil. Though the ceiling and walls bear the same markings, it is interesting to note that the door itself remains untouched by the devastation. Magical torches, now extinguished, once lit the entrance to what you assume to be some sort of inner sanctum, and armored statues line the walls to your side.

None of you noticed anything out of the ordinary. Alton thinks there may be walls. Probably.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton looks in awe at the massive door and tilts his head as he considers what could be behind it. 'Hmmmm I wonder if it's locked. Lets see if I still have my touch' Alton thinks with a little grin. He goes up to the door and tries to open it as quietly as possible so as not to disturb anything inside.

Dex Check if the door is locked. If I need to roll stealth i rolled a 24 earlier on stealth, if not i can roll again.
[roll0]

[n0ble]

Carric gives a low whistle as he sees the Marble door **** me.What an age to be alive. "What in the name of the Great Red Wyrm is this place?" He asks the ranger, a mild sense of wonderment stopping him from being rude.

No telling what could be behind this once the little fellow works his make on the door. Best to be prepared. As the thought leaves his mind, he snaps his fingers, a small palm-sized flame answering his summons by way of appearance in his claw. His keeps his claw and crossbow trained just over the shoulders of the halfling as he fiddles with the door.



[roll0] For arcana to see what the writing on the walls is all about
[roll1] For the arcana on the door if it's different. Otherwise just use the first one

[3SecondCultist]

Watching the others make their preparations, Lyral stands stalwartly in front of the doors. The man watches Alton at work, making sure that the little-man is safe during the process. He knows that of the group, he is the most likely to withstand whatever punishment will no doubt emerge. I am the hunter. His new staff is out and at the ready. Whatever comes, he will be the first to make the strike. And if this Jesken gets in his way, there will be more blood spilled in this hall tonight.

Can I ready actions? I want to see if I can ready a Wild Shape into a bear or something, instead of actually potentially wasting a use right now. The condition would be something attacking me.

[Let'sGetKraken]

As you examine the door, Jesken ponders the question. "I don't know. Mostly likely an inner sanctum of some sort. If there are answers to be found, then they would be here."

Alton walks up to the doorhandle and examines it. There does not appear to be any sort of locking mechanism, though no doubt powerful magic once guarded it. As you pull open the door, gently and quietly, the runes on the door flare with blinding white light. When your vision clears, you see the armored statues on each side of you lumbering to life. Though their movements may be slow, their weapons look dangerously sharp.

Roll initiative, please.

Alton would normally have taken 2d6 damage from the burning light, but I ruled that he rolled high enough on the dex check to avoid the damage. Carric, you have no idea what any of the runes could possibly mean. Lyral, as you have not been attacked, you will need to wild shape on your action in combat.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton quickly backpedals from the door in an effort to get away from the suits of armor and rushes back to gain some room to start shooting into combat. 'I forgot how much I hate magical doors! There's always something unexpected, ugh like that time with the magical slime...' Regis thinks with a look of exasperation on his face at the entrance of the suits of armor.

Initiative
[roll0]

[Let'sGetKraken]

Jesken, obviously trained for this kind of situation, is the first to react. Drawing his sword and slinging his shield over his arm with lightning-quick reflexes, he moves forward to intercept the first suit of armor. As he slashes out towards it, hoping to hit some sort of weak point, he whistles a peculiar note. Razorfang, clearly ready and eager for combat, lunges forward at the same suit of armor, his fangs reflexively striking at the creature's throat.

Jesken will move forward and make a single weapon attack against the first armor. [roll0], dealing [roll1] damage on a hit.
Meanwhile, he will use his second attack to command Razorfang to attack: [roll2], for [roll3] damage.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton sees the ranger go in to strike at the suit of armor and while it is preoccupied with the him and his wolf he snaps off a shot at the armor as well catching it off guard.

The flanking provided by the ranger and wolf lets him sneak attack the armor.
[roll0] and damage [roll1] sneak attack [roll2]

[3SecondCultist]

Lyral blinks twice in surprise as the suits of armor come alive and begin to move. That... what are these things? In the wilds, there are predators and there are prey. But these horrors sit in the dark, waiting for someone to come and challenge them. As Jessken's sword hits the first armor, Lyral hears a distinct clang. They're hollow. But the ranger's attack clearly hurt these things... and if they can be wounded, they can be put down.

I am the hunter. Casting aside his first spell, Lyral pulls out a sprig of pine and casts a second ward around him. His skin chisels and hardens, and the crevices begin to sprout vines. But he isn't finished yet. I am the hunter. Stepping forward, the man falls on all fours, his muscles enlarging past the point of mankind, and into the realm of the wilds. His teeth are engorged into fangs, and his hands into talons. I am the hunter. The grizzly bear takes up the front, roaring at the armor to come and take their shot.

[n0ble]

"****, you know when i woke up today, the last thing I pictured were homicidal suits of armour fighting a wolf." . As he mutters a couple words of power the air around Carric rapidly compacts itself, till eight translucent spheres form around his head like a halo. He lazily raises his clawed hand at the farthest suit causing all eight of the spheres to whizz forward and impact it at the joints.


Spending two sorcery points for a total of 4 remaining. Using the two spent to quicken a 2nd level magic missile. Casting another instance of magic missile as a second level spell.

[roll0]

[Let'sGetKraken]

Jesken's blade carves a jagged gash in the creature, but both the wolf and the halfling's attacks prove ineffective. Meanwhile, Carric's assault nearly obliterates the armor at the back. Barely standing, a twisted mockery of the armor it once was, it joins the others in lumbering forward towards their assailants. Each one lashes out twice, once with its sword and once with its fist.


Each armor will make two attacks (1, 2, and 3 all against Jesken, 4, 5 and 6 all against Lyral):
Armor 1: [roll0] for [roll1] and [roll2] for [roll3]
Armor 2: [roll4] for [roll5] and [roll6] for [roll7]
Armor 3: [roll8] for [roll9] and [roll10] for [roll11]
Armor 4: [roll12] for [roll13] and [roll14] for [roll15]
Armor 5: [roll16] for [roll17] and [roll18] for [roll19]
Armor 6: [roll20] for [roll21] and [roll22] for [roll23]

[Let'sGetKraken]

Jesken stumbles back as two of the attacks find their mark. Though not seriously injured, the attacks did do a considerable amount of damage. Lyral, too, finds that two of the attacks tear into his hide. The Lieutenant doesn't hesistate, however, and attacks the one he had previously injured, his wolf at his side.

Jesken takes a total of 16 damage, as one of the slams crit. Lyral takes 10 damage.
Jesken's attack: [roll0] for [roll1]
Razorfang's attack: [roll2] for [roll3]

Alton's up!

[3SecondCultist]

The druid-turned-bear reels back under the attacks of the armor, although he manages to hold on to his protective spell. They're coming in a bit too close for his liking, but there's nothing left to do but try and bring them down. Lashing out with his claws and bite in tandem, the mass of muscle seeks out the most damaged of its prey.

Attacking the animated suit of armor directly in front of me. I really hope this does something - we need to focus fire on these guys, or else we're going to be in some serious trouble. Taking six attacks per round will eat through me pretty quickly.

Bite: [roll0] for [roll1] damage.

Claw: [roll2] for [roll3] damage.

[Let'sGetKraken]

Lyral's fangs sink into the suit of armor, mangling it beyond all recognition. The rest of the armor falls the the ground, lifeless.

The sword it carries, however, remains in the air; it appears that the suits of armor aren't the only defenses in place. Hovering in place, it prepares to strike back at the one who destroyed the constructthat bore it.

[GameOfChampions]

As Alton sees the armor damage the lieutenant he snaps off yet another arrow at the damaged suit trying to buy the ranger and his wolf some breathing room to act. His eyes dart around the room and he sees the suit of armor fall and a sword take its place 'So even if we down them there is still another enemy to face! Crap!' Altons mind starts whirling with possibilities as he tries to think of any other options.

[roll0] and damage is [roll1] as sneak attack and regular damage [roll2]

[Let'sGetKraken]

Alton's arrow flies true, carving a jagged gash through the creature's armor. The construct looks severely damaged, though it still stands.

The flying sword strikes out at Lyral, attempting to avenge the armored construct to which it was bound.

Flying sword attack at Lyral: [[roll0] for [roll1] damage.

[n0ble]

"Get ready to fall back if need be, we maybe outclassed here. Their quantity more than makes up for any lack of quality." Carric hisses at Alton, gesturing to the floating sword as it hacks at Lyral. He directs his claw to the sword, the flame it contains briefly flaring before it zooms toward the floating sword. He accompanies the detonation with a yell at Lyrao "Big man, get ready to fall back if this **** goes south!" . As he says this he rests his hand on the door, muscles tensing, ready to fling it open if need be.



Firebolt to hit roll: [roll0]
Damage if it hits: [roll1]

[Let'sGetKraken]

As the fire whizzes over the sword, the suits of armor direct their swords and spiked gauntlets towards the druid and ranger in front of them. The ranger, grievously wounded, attempts to finish off the suit of armor in front of him, his wolf at his side.

Animated armor 1, 2, and 3 will be attacking Jesken. Suits 4 and 5 will be attacking Lyral.
Armor 1: [roll0] for [roll1] and [roll2] for [roll3]
Armor 2: [roll4] for [roll5] and [roll6] for [roll7]
Armor 3: [roll8] for [roll9] and [roll10] for [roll11]
Armor 4: [roll12] for [roll13] and [roll14] for [roll15]
Armor 5: [roll16] for [roll17] and [roll18] for [roll19]

Jesken: [roll20] for [roll21]
Razorfang: [roll22] for [roll23]

[GameOfChampions]

Seeing the suit of armor fall, and the sword rise from the pile, Alton decides to leave and help to help the true members of his party. He rushes over past Carric and coming to a sliding stop quickly draws, nocks, and fires in one smooth practiced motion aiming at the closest suit to him that just attacked Lyral.


[roll0] and damage sneak attack [roll1] and [roll2]

[3SecondCultist]

As the armor cuts and slashes, Lyral sees only red. Perhaps he's angry at these horrors for hurting him. Or perhaps its the blood from the gash above his right eye, one of many clouding his vision right now. Every movement brings with it a new wracking pain, as he can hardly stand on his own four paws. It's a mighty task to even stay conscious. But a hunter does not give up. He stands his ground, and fights. Besides, there is nowhere he could run to. His allies are in the way of the only door out of here. So the big bear will fight on to the last, just like its kin.

In what will likely be Lyral's last attack action, he will strike out at the suit that just damaged him the most, suit number 5. Full attack, with his bite and claws.

Bite: [roll0] for [roll1] damage.

Claws: [roll2] for [roll3] damage.

[n0ble]

"We are undone" Carric says, his voice sounding far away, trance-like even, as he looks at the suits of armour hacking into Lyral. As he says this he reflexively pushes one of the great doors open, before saying a couple words of power as three illusionary images flash into being around him. All four versions of Carric glance at Alton, and say in a chorus of voices "Go through the doors into the sanctum, find what has done this, I shall lend the big man aid and try and hold off these abominations." Having said his piece, all fives Carrics stride forward each version of him bellowing the same thing in unison "Come, kill me if you can!". He punctuates this with another detonation at the closest suit of armour and the flying sword.

Casting firebolt at the closest suit of armour (see map) [roll0]
Spending 1 Sorcery point to twin that firebolt at the flying sword [roll1] for 3 sorcery points left
Spending 2 sorcery points to quicken mirror image, for a total of 1 left.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The rogue and the sorcerer's attacks bounce off the constructs - their armor proves too tough to penetrate. The swords, whirling through the air, strike out at the druid and the ranger. Jesken, too injured to fight on, collapses to the ground, bleeding and unconscious. The wolf, filled with rage, strikes out twice at the sword in front of it. Meanwhile, the suits of armor raise their weapons to strike once more.

Suddenly, an explosion of light fills the corridor from behind your enemies. The burst of energy disintegrates the already-damaged armor that had grievously wounded Lyral, along with the sword beside it, and leaves the others on the edge of the fight looking worse for the wear. As you stagger back, caught off guard, you see what looks like a man standing in the center of the detonation. Slim and clearly dressed for combat, his tanned skin stands in stark contrast with his white hair and eyes. Though he looks just as confused as you, he raises his longsword and shield towards the constructs, two of which turn to attack him.


Writtensanity, please roll initiative.

Sword 1 will be attacking Jesken: [roll0] for [roll1]
Sword 2 will be attacking Lyral: [roll2] for [roll3]

Armor 2 will attack the newcomer: [roll4] for [roll5] and [roll6] for [roll7]
Armor 3 will also attack the newcomer: [roll8] for [roll9] and [roll10] for [roll11]
Armor 6 will attack Lyral: [roll12] for [roll13] and [roll14] for [roll15]

[GameOfChampions]

Alton's jaw drops in stupefied amazement as the man appears in the room, "Well hi there stranger surprised to see you here." then he spots the weakened suits of armor across the room and rushes over to try and finish them off quickly before they can down any more of their party. As he starts to shoot at the sword he tries to shake the appearance of this man from the light.

[roll0] and for damage [roll1] and [roll2]

[3SecondCultist]

The surprise at still being alive is met by a similar reaction as Lyral sees a newcomer join the fray. He carries his weapons like a warrior, like a predator. And as he sees Jesken fall, a stray thought passes by him. The wolf at that man's side fights on, out of... loyalty? Yes, it is loyalty. A bond between it and its companion. No matter what has happened or what will happen, the hunter feels that bond with his fellow adventurers as they stand here, at the brink of defeat. These statues will not die. But he will not hurt them, not like he did before. I am still the hunter.

For the second time that day, Lyral's body transforms and hardens into a protective shell. And once again, the bear moves forward to prepare a new assault.

Spending my second use of Wild Shape to turn into a grizzly once again (in the same squares) as a bonus action, and my regular action to cast Barkskin. I'm at full hp, and 16 AC again. :smallsmile:

[Writtensanity]

Valesh turns to recognize the man who spoke, Well met? Sure he had met him, but he dind't think this was the best of times to do so. No matter, the strange speech of those around him wasn't about to make him stray from his mission.

Valesh strikes out at the nearest armor with his blade, lunging forward with the shortsword in hand. The shield is not close behind it, smashing against the foe as part of the same smooth motion, the golden buckler crashes against the armor, and it becomes a matter of strength whether it knocks him over or not.




Short Sword: [roll0] Damage: [roll1]
Shield Bash: As a bonus action I can try to shove someone with my shield if I made an attack that turn with a one handed weapon, I'm trying it on the armor. If I succeed I would like to knock it prone. This is an athletics check. [roll2]

[Let'sGetKraken]

The rogue's arrow finds its mark, and the floating sword shatters to pieces beside the fallen ranger. The stranger's strike, likewise, savagely tears into the suit of armor between himself and Jesken, who bleeds heavily from several nastly-looking slashes across his chest. With his shield, the warrior knocks the other suit to the ground, where it struggles to rise.

Meanwhile, the sword near Lyral strikes out at the bear; whatever intelligence animates the construct refuses to stop until the intruders are destroyed.

Sword attack at lyral: [roll0] for [roll1]

[n0ble]

The sudden arrival of the figure and light is a welcome sight, though the radiance of his arrival hurts Carrics darkvison.In response to the arrival of the individual, three orbs of force form around Carric as he directs them towards the suit of armour in front. Carric doesnt even bother to direct them, instead they simply zip towards the suit of armour with an audible crunch as they impact with it.



[roll0] for a first level magic missile

[Let'sGetKraken]

The two suits of armor facing the newcomer stand very much worse for the wear. The one knocked prone stands, with great difficulty, and attacks the one who had knocked it down. The other one follows suit, slashing with the sword and attempting to smash its spiked fist into his side.

Meanwhile, the other suit of armor attacks the bear in front of it, completely ignoring the sorcerer's elaborate illusion. Still completely undamaged, it strikes relentlessly at the intruder before it.

Jesken continues to bleed out as Razorfang advances to attack the suit of armor that had just stood. His fangs tear through the first armor like paper before destroying the second construct, leaving two floating swords and a pile of useless metal in his wake.

Razorfang's attack: [roll0] for [roll1] and [roll2] for [roll3]
Armor 2 against Valesh: [roll4] for [roll5] and [roll6] for [roll7]
Armor 3 against Valesh: [roll8] for [roll9] and [roll10] for [roll11]
Armor 5 against Lyral: [roll12] for [roll13] and [roll14] for [roll15]

[GameOfChampions]

Alton shoots at the sword over the unconscious body of the ranger trying to buy some breathing room for the helpless lieutenant. 'I can only do so much from here its up to his wolf companion to keep him safe since it seems that no one else will.' Alton shoots hoping that his arrow will strike true 'I am not built for combat like this, I'm built for stabing people in the back more then this.'


To hit [roll0] With Sneak Attack [roll1] and regular [roll2]

[3SecondCultist]

Lyral, managing to hold on to his barkskin spell, lashes out at the last remaining suit of armor. But not before sacrificing a bit of his last remaining magic, the bear can feel the healing power rejuvenating his wounds somewhat. Maybe I won't die here. The new fighter seems to have turned the tide of this battle. Although he wields a magic beyond the druid's understanding, his form in combat demonstrates his capability as a hunter. The man-turned-bear has an immediate, grudging respect for him. But there will be time for that later. Now, these things just need to die.

Attack, attack, attack! As stated in my post, I'm spending one of my first level spell slots to heal [roll0] damage, and attacking the suit of armor with my bite and claw.

Bite: [roll1] for [roll2]

Claw: [roll3] for [roll4]

[Writtensanity]

Valesh winced as the blade struck him, blood welling up at his side. How had the armor attacked so relentlessly after he had slashed it across the neck. He had discoutned the man inside as soon as that had happened, but the man was able to stand back up as if nothing had happened.
It was then that Valesh noticed his blade, no blood dripping off the edges. The wolf's attack confirmed his suspicions, these suits of armor were moving on their own. More trickery, but nothing more than he could handle.
As the armor fell, its blade remained in the air, poinsed to strike the bloodied Paladin, "This armor moves without a body, forget your training and break it down men!" He whirls his blade in a smooth circle before slashing down quickly, following with his shield to try to force the floating blade to the ground.


Attacking the blade: [roll0] [roll1]
Rolling for shield bash: [roll2]

[Let'sGetKraken]

The paladin stumbles forward, his shield meeting no resistance as the sword crumbles before him. Alton's arrow shatters the other sword, leaving only a singular suit of armor, bearly clinging to life after Lyral's attacks and the sword behind it. That same sword strikes out at the druid, carrying out its predetermined task to the end. Whatever is inside must be highly important, if this magic survived the destruction of the temple. Unfortunately, its blade seems ineffective against the bark-like hide beneath the bear's fur.

Sword attack at Lyral: [roll0] for [roll1]

Carric, you're up! The armor in front of you has 1 health. Let's see if you guys can destroy it!

[n0ble]

It seems they don't see with whatever passes for eyes. A shame. . He makes a grasping motion with his claw, his thumb and two fingers making it look like he's throwing a dart. As he pulls back his hand and releases it the dart splits into three identical versions of itself, the first hitting the armour square in the chest, the other two impacting the sword hovering in the air.



Casting 1rst level magic missile
missile 1 at the armour [roll0]
missiles 2&3 at the sword [roll1]

[Let'sGetKraken]

The last remaining suit of armor disintegrates under the sorcerer's magical attacks, the floating sword absorbing the other two magical bolts.

Razorfang rushes forward past the paladin, lunging at the undamaged sword in front of Lyral and completely destroying it. Jesken groans as his wounds continue to bleed profusely, but doesn't seem in immediate danger of death.

Razorfang's attacks: [roll0] for [roll1] and [roll2] for [roll3]
Jesken's death save: [roll4]

One last sword, guys!

[3SecondCultist]

The bear roars in triumph as Carric's spell destroys the last of the suits of armor. One final effort, and he will be able to rest. To heal. But no hunter would leave such a task unfinished. And so, scratching at the stone floors for some traction, the beast turns and unleashes its bestial ferocity once more towards the floating sword.

Hopefully this is the last of it! I took Alton's turn again, but I don't think it'll matter for much longer anyhow.

Bite: [roll0] for [roll1]

Claw: [roll2] for [roll3]

[Let'sGetKraken]

The last sword is shattered with the bear's furious assault pommels it to pieces. The four of you are left standing in the corridor with a bleeding and unconscious ranger at your feet and, presumably, quite a few questions. Behind you, the door lies slightly ajar; it seems like whatever other magical protections it might have had are now gone. The last pieces of armor crumble away, leaving a small piece of paper in their wake. Otherwise, there is no sign of the constructs that you just faced.

Combat's over, you can post as you'd like.

[n0ble]

Carric's illusionary duplicates fade as the scraps of armour turn to ash."You may want to stay as you are big man, no telling what else could be here" he says to the large bear standing in front of him. His focus shifts to the white haired figure standing before him. "Thanks for the help, doubt we could've held out much longer, you must have a lot of questions, I know I do. Speaking of..." Carric trails off as he his gaze turns from the stranger to the prone form of Jesken. He strides towards the ranger, stopping just in front of him so that he can look down on him. Now what are we going to do about you... "Thoughts?" he says, gesturing at the ranger's prone form. Carrics hand are at his side, though one still grips his still loaded crossbow.

[3SecondCultist]

The bear's roars turn into little growls, and then muttering as Lyral sheds off his animal skin, and stands on his own two feet again. No less a predator, but a bit more familiar. The outlander stretches, enjoying the feeling of every muscle moving in accordance with his will. His light brown hair falls back around his lean features naturally, and when he licks his lips, they taste like metal.

"You have my thanks as well." Now that the battle is over, Lyral gets a better look at the stranger. He seems powerful enough, and he has a physical presence that should be admired. His speed and ferocity and battle mark him out as a potent hunter, but Lyral says nothing. It's an evident truth, not something to be said. People talk too much in the 'civilized world'. He chooses simply to nod.

When Carric mentions the fallen warrior, Lyral takes a step towards him. I'd forgotten I still have a healing spell. But only the survivors can reap the rewards. After producing a piece of petrified sap, the hunter presses it into his own wounds to try and repair the damage. His gaze doesn't leave the man dying on the floor. Sometimes, a statement is much more powerful than mere words.

So I'm casting Cure Wounds on myself instead of Jesken. If he makes his last death save, he makes his last death save. Lyral doesn't care much either way.

Cure Wounds: [roll0]

[GameOfChampions]

Alton looks at the others start to talk to the new arrival and decide that they can handle it 'I have to act quickly if i want to stop the bleeding.' Alton runs over to the wounded man and pulls out some old rags from his pack along with a healing potion and throws himself down beside the man and jostling the protective wolf a bit "I'm trying to save your master so give me some space!" The halfling then wraps some of the worse wounds with the rags, staunching the bleeding, and then tilts his head back and starts to dribble some of the healing potion down his throat.

Though much of it was coughed up, or possibly inhaled, some made it into his system and he starts to look better and the bleeding slows. Alton sits back and huffs "Well that was close any longer and we could have lost him." He glares at the other two members "No thanks to you two." He now takes a moment to take in the stranger and his otherworldly appearance and waits for him to introduce himself.

[3SecondCultist]

"You are welcome." Lyral nods his head graciously towards the halfling. He does not understand the hostility. Is not nature supposed to run its course? In any case, it looks as though the ranger will live for now. Once the potion has been administered, he reaches down with one hand in order to help him back up to his feet... but not before noticing the scrap of paper that fell from the last of the statues.

Moving over to pick it up, Lyral tries to read it. He realizes he probably isn't the best suited, but if he can make sense of it, then no doubt the others will be able to uncover whatever secrets lie written on it.

[Let'sGetKraken]

Jesken climbs gratefully to his feet with the help of the druid and rogue. Shaking his head groggily, he reaches over and lays a grateful hand on his wolf. "Thanks for protecting me, boy." Turning his attention to the rest of you, he continues, "I owe you my thanks as well. Whatever you gave me to stop me from bleeding out, I appreciate it. I might not have made it oth-"

His voice cuts off as he notices the newcomer. "Who in the blazes are you? When did you get here? And why do you look like..." The ranger struggles for words, gesturing at the man's unusual skin tone and eye/hair colour. "That?"

Lyral, having picked up the scrap of paper, finds it to be covered in a very strange language, one that he is unfamiliar with. The paper also bears magical runes and sigils, but they look like they would require familiarity with the arcane to comprehend.

[n0ble]

Carric gives a noncommittal snort at Altons comment, What makes him think i care about losing the ranger? After all his people have done to me? Were it up to me he would burn. Carric's train of thought is broken by the parchment the big man holds. Walking over he starts to try and decipher what is on the parchment by looking over the big man's shoulder.

As Jesken awakens and starts asking questions, Carric is still reading the script, "He saved us Jesken, and by extension saved your ***." pausing from his reading, he turns to the stranger "Please excuse him. Unlike the Lieutenant here, I recognize appearances aren't everything" . As Carric says this he gestures with his hand along the scaled side of his body.


Arcana Check for the scroll if needed [roll0]

[Writtensanity]

Combat over Valesh had been quiet for a very simple reason, there were too many questions running through his head. There were dozens that were left unanswered, but the previous few days had left him used to this sort of situation, all of the rules of the land had been changed in the last few hours.


"it's good to see that some of you are still around after everything that has happened the past few days.

Valesh approaches Cerric, holding out a hand, " I am Valesh, Hand of Heli. I've lost my forces, where in the desert do we lie?"

As he finishes his sentance, he hears the ranger speak, "What blazes do you speak of? There isn't a fire around.' and second the Sorcerer, "And I have done nothing with this man's ass."

[Let'sGetKraken]

The ranger looks puzzled. "I don't understand? They're figures of speech." He turns to the others. "How did he get here? The last thing I remember was a blast of light." Moving back to face the newcomer, he says, "Pardon my manners. You caught me off-guard. I meant no offense. Are you from the far north? You look like you're from the desert, but... your accent is wrong."

[Writtensanity]

Valesh laughs at the man, "Sir, sorry I didn't understand your speech, must be phrases up north." He shrugs, and continues surveying the room and the inhabitants, obviosuly he had bene transported, not the first time, but everything felt very damp, "The Arhamkara seems to have transported me around the battle again. Does anyone have a map?

[3SecondCultist]

And still, they talk. Although he is admittedly loyal to the pack, Lyral is quickly tiring of this prattle. The man stalks further down the corridor, his eyes darting left, then right. Where is this passage, in relation to the rest of the temple? After the battle they just won, he would be more than happy to get out of here as quickly as possible.

And then he hears the strange looking hunter say a word he has never heard before. Not exactly uncommon, but it sounds stranger than usual. "Ar-hamm-chara? What is that?"

Perception check down the corridor! I'm assuming we can walk further down past where the statues are.

Perception: [roll0]

[Let'sGetKraken]

The ranger looks even more confused. "The, uh, arhamcara? Sorry, I don't think I'm familiar..." He rummages in a pouch for a map. "Here. You're at the fulcrum of Tryndaan. Where were you transported from?"

[Writtensanity]

Valesh starts to laugh, "Alright, we don't need to make jokes like this at such a serious time." he looks up to the ceiling, "I'm going to need to get to the surface if I am going to figure this out. Which way to the surface from here?"

[Let'sGetKraken]

If anything, Jesken seems even more confused. "I... This is impossible." He doesn't seem to know how to process this. "You're not from Everell, are you?" Shaking his head, he mutters, "This can't be happening. The gods protect us from outside interference. Planar travel to Everell should be impossible."

[Writtensanity]

"Eve-rell," the words roll off of Valesh's tongue in a strange way, it's not a normal word. Not the kind he was used to anyways, perhaps a small town? That being said,

"Planar travel shoudln't even be-"

Okay, now this man was making no sense, "Excuse me sir, but what exactly is planar travel?"

[Let'sGetKraken]

The ranger looks distinctly uncomfortable. "Um. You know, I think we should really investigate what's beyond those doors. We can talk about the, ah, planes another time."

[GameOfChampions]

Alton watches this exchange get more and more confused and shakes his head a bit as if to clear his head of all befuddling thoughts. "Ok well I'll do the honors if everyone is OK with that." He then walks up and opens the doors as he had been doing before the attack and appearance of this new strange man.

[3SecondCultist]

Realizing that some malignant god had given him incomplete information, Lyral quickly does a 180 degree turn and follows Alton towards the doors. Whether this strange hunter is from a different plane or not isn't Lyral's concern. He has a feeling they will find the truth soon enough, so asking him about it is a waste of breath. The druid nods at the little man as he moves forward. His quarterstaff is still out, and his defensive magic is still active, so if they find themselves in another fight, he will be ready. A hunter never rests.

[n0ble]

Carric grips the mans forearm in acknowledgement of what he has done. Speaking in elvish, he says "We lie in no desert my friend, we're in the heart of marked territory" As Jesken approaches the man, Carric turns away, not wanting to have to interact with the Lieutenant but still idly listening to the two men as he walks towards Alton and Lyral. His ears perk up at the mention of interplanar travel. Well it would make sense, given how the god of magic's powers are in decline. I guess we're all strangers in this place.

As Alton opens the door, Carric brings his crossbow to bear on the entrance, a tiny flame appearing in his palm. "Big man, that scrap of paper you picked up, I understand the scribblings on it. I can use the magic on it to help us." Besides, I'm running low on power as is.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The door creaks open and the four of you, along with Jesken, step through into a small chamber. As soon as you do, you are almost bowled over by the incredible magical energy within this room. Runes glowing blue and white cover the alabaster walls, and the air hums with arcane power. Intuitively, even those among you who are barely acquainted with magic can tell that it all comes from the pedestal in the center of the room. Floating above the ornate pedestal, gently spinning in the air, is a cube covered in magical sigils. Since there are no other doors leading in or out of this room, you assume that it serves as a place to store what is undoubtedly a powerful magical artifact.

You have only begun to examine the strange sanctum when, all of a sudden, you hear what sounds like an explosion from above you. As the temple shakes, you realize that 'explosion' isn't quite accurate - it sounds more like a massive impact, as if something huge slammed into the Fulcrum. Whirling around, pale-faced, Jesken draws his sword.

[3SecondCultist]

Wordlessly handing Carric the scroll he found, Lyral is the first to step into the room. The runes are stranger than anything he's seen, and yet intimately familiar in a way he doesn't quite understand. The hunter stares at the source of the magic intently, unblinking, clear of bloodlust. For a moment, everything he's ever seen is wiped away in a white-grey tide of calm. In the back of his mind, he gets the sense he should be on his knees in supplication before this godlike power.

And then the temple shakes.

Gathering himself back up in fragments, the man who called himself Lyral looks to the lieutenant. The noise that emerges from his lips is half mutter, half growl. "Calm yourself. We were dead the moment we stepped inside this place." And yet, the magic still compels him. What is it? He reaches out towards the cube with his free hand, as if to touch the potent artifact on the pedestal.

[GameOfChampions]

As Lyral reaches out to touch the cube Alton rushes foward and grabs him by the forearm. "I don't think that's a good idea my friend let us use caution with something this powerful. Lets see if we can determine its purpose first, maybe we can have Phillipe check it out when we meet up again." Though he had stopped Lyral from touching it Alton too feels the urge to poke it, resisting his growing curiosity the Halfling turns to the others at the massive explosion "What the hell do you think that is? some sort of creature or siege engine possibly? It couldn't be magic could it?" Alton, even as he talks to the others, still eyes the cube out of the corner of his eye as if it would disappear or preform some interesting dance if he wasn't watching.

[3SecondCultist]

His face contorted into a snarl, Lyral throws off Alton's grasp easily. For all that his physical strength isn't at its peak in human form, he's still bigger than the halfling. He takes a half lunge at the little man, and decides mid-stride that he isn't worth it. The empty staff still held out, barring him from Alton, Lyral moves towards the cube. He will witness its power, danger or no. It's probably better than facing off with whatever is upstairs. Every hunter knows when to stand and fight, and when to run.

If you're going to try and stop me again, you had better roll for it. :smallwink:

[Writtensanity]

There wasn't time for this sort of folly in the troops. A man shouldn't be letting his judgement be thrown away by that of a small child.


Valesh inches his sword out of its scabbard.

He was tired of the games, and had seen enough of the Ahamkara's trickery to know what the cube in front of him was, they provided power to the sinister force that was plaguing his home, and he was going to destroy it in the easiest way possible.

With one smooth motion, he pulled his blade and struck the cube with impossible speed.

[Let'sGetKraken]

Valesh's sword strikes the cube and bounces off harmlessly; whatever magics this cube possesses, a simple longsword doesn't seem powerful enough to pierce it. Instead, as the metal clashes against the artifact, it releases a pulse of arcane energy that knocks everyone in the room back, throwing them prone against the walls. Though the pulse does no damage to the five of you, it shatters the sword that struck it; it seems like the cube is imbued with powerful defensive magic.

[n0ble]

Carric watches the trio approach the dias, a smile on his face. Best to let them go first. His reprieve is ended by the large booming sound that shakes the chamber. By the time he has regained his composure, the paladin is swinging his sword at the cube. "NO!" he roars as the shockwave ripples out and strikes them all.

As Carric rises, dusting himself off as he surveys the figures sprawled about the chamber."Maybe you should try punching it next time" he says to the stranger with a sneer he lets out an exasperated sigh as he strides toward the centre of the room. And the cube. A powerful weapon indeed, he thinks to himself. As the thought crosses his mind his clawed hand extends, encircling the cube and removing it from it's dias.

[Let'sGetKraken]

As the sorcerer moves his hand towards the cube, he feels a strange tingling feeling; not painful, exactly, but entirely unfamiliar. His hand meets no resistance, however, and he is able to reach forward and touch the cube. As his fingers brush the artifact, he feels a surge of power like nothing he's ever felt.

In that moment, fragments of images flash through his mind. Field of fire, burning white-hot as far as the eye can see. Mountains, valleys, and canyons that dwarf anything seen on Everell. A jungle of stone that stretch taller than the oldest trees he has ever seen. A gaping chasm, from which pours forth an incomprehensibly large horde of undead creatures. A clockwork city built on a floating island and a fortress of diamond, glistening in the sunlight in the early-morning mist. An enormous river, filled with tar-like sludge and as black as night, cutting through unsettling-looking marshlands. All these and hundreds more flash through his mind before he is left reeling as they abruptly stop.

[3SecondCultist]

Rocked back by the shockwave, Lyral somehow manages to maintain his balance. He looks at the newcomer with something akin to disgust - why would anyone attack something they don't fully understand? - but says nothing. He chooses instead to stare at the cube.

When Carric touches it, however, the hunter reacts almost immediately. Reaching forward with one hand, he touches the surface of the cube as well. There were no immediately bad effects on the scaled man, so he shouldn't be harmed.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The druid also feels the magical energy flow over him, and he is treated to visions of hundred of different worlds and environments. Unimaginable landscapes and strange creatures - predator or prey, he wonders - fill his mind. The visions are broken, however, by an enormous smashing sound; as the earth shakes, you can hear the crashing roar of what sounds like a segment of them temple collapsing. This time, it sounds closer, coming from the direction of the great hall.

[Writtensanity]

Valesh, pushed himself up from against the wall, wincing in pain from the wound on his side. Even if the impact itself hadn't hurt, hitting the wound against the wall had. The pulled his second blade, a rapier, from it's scabbard, looking up just in time to see the the half-elf reaching towards the orb and grab it. His eyes light up with visions of lands far off lands.

"Don't tamper with the invader's trinkets you imbicile!" Valesh goes to run towards the orb, but as the hunter grabs it, the ground begins to shake and crash, "Blazes, do you see what you've done!?" The paladin shouts, trying to adapt his language to their phrasing, "Let go of it and let's get back to the battle, for Heli."

[Let'sGetKraken]

A third crash interrupts the paladin's shouting. This one seems even louder than the first two - it sounds like it's coming from the mouth of the tunnel. Jesken, pale and trembling, slings his shield across his left arm and swallows nervously. "See if you can figure out what that cube does. I'm going to try to buy you time." Pausing, he gestures at Razorfang, whose hackles are raised as he faces the tunnel. "You going to join me, boy?" The wolf bounds to his side. Jesken smiles, but it's the kind of weak smile a man shows when he's trying not to break down. "You've never let me down."

As he walks out the doors, you can see his hands are shaking so badly he almost drops his sword. "Bar the door behind me, alright? There's magic in here... It might keep you safe for a little while." As he turns to go, a thought crosses his mind. "You saved my life. I hope I get to repay the favour. It was an honour fighting alongside you all." He grimaces, a dark smile flickering across the corners of his mouth. "Even you, sorcerer. Rude as you may have been."

With that, Jesken and Razorfang walk out into the darkness of the corridor.

[Writtensanity]

"Ranger." Valesh walks forward towards him, catching up with the man with his long strides. He places a hand on the shoulder of the ranger, stopping him from walking out the door just yet, "I haven't known you for long, but may the light of Pelor watch over you," The Paladin's eyes glow brightly as his hand does the same, sparks shoot off it and dance over the man's wounds and to his blade. The injuries are healed, and the blade shimmers with the power of the sun, "Well met."

He let's the ranger continue on with his quest, his eyes keeping their harsh light as he shuts the door behind the ranger. He grabs the iron bar, and slams it down, letting it ring aorund the runes of the room, the nail in the coffin of the ranger.

Valesh pulls his hand towards the cube, and brushes it, exploding into the rapture of visions that the others are having.

Using 10 points of lay-On-hands and 1 cast of heroism.

[3SecondCultist]

His mind filled with wondrous images, Lyral stands agape. What... how... where...? These visions are almost more than he can handle. The wilds he grew up in, every wood and glades, every hill and valley are nothing compared to the images behind his eyes.

"Alton... take it. Take hold." The crashing of the temple is getting closer, and Jesken has barred the door. They don't have long, and visions won't help them against whatever is ripping this place apart. If this cube has defensive wards as powerful as the one that ripped apart the stranger's sword, there has to be more to it. He knows nothing about magic, but maybe this thing will give them access to power from the other places? What he does know is that, as of right now, nothing is happening.

"Take it!"

[n0ble]

Carric looks on solumley as Jesken goes beyond the doors, his mouth etched in a tight line. Maybe theres some merit to marked other than Phillipe after all.. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, he gazes up at the ceiling. Phillipe, wherever you are i hope it's far the **** away from here. Carric turns in the direction of the halfling "Alton, get your *** moving, NOW!", the words come out as more of a bellow than a yell. As Alton moves forward, Carrics eyes turn to the cube, strange etchings and all. Maybe figuring out how this thing works will let us fight whatevers coming. Or at least get the **** out of here.



Rolling for arcana to get us the hell out of here: [roll0]

[Let'sGetKraken]

The four of you become conscious of a low humming sound emanating from the cube, almost as if it's reacting to the physical contact. As the seconds tick by and the crashing sounds move closer and closer, the humming gets more and more intense. Carric gets the feeling that the artifact is charging.

Suddenly, the crashing stops. Whatever it is, it's very close to the room that the four of you find yourselves in. The relative silence is broken a few seconds later by an unmistakeably human scream, and Valesh feels his concentration disappear.

And then nothing. Utter silence, barring the increasing whirring of the cube.

Moments tick by. The cube is beginning to glow with a strange blue light, the runes on each side becoming illuminated.

Then there's an enormous crash and the door buckles inward. The runes surrounding it flare up, the protective magics attempting to protect the door from shattering. While the door holds for the moment, the four of you are hit with a pulse of... something. Whatever it is, it feels fundamentallywrong, and its all you can do to stay standing.

Everyone make a con save, please.

[3SecondCultist]

It's worse than unsettling. Lyral tries his best to remain on his own two feet, even as he can feel the approach of the thing outside. He's never felt this before, this fear deep in his skull. Even when faced with the worst predators of the forest, he's always known what to do, how to hunt and how to run. But here, trapped like this with the very jaws of death outside the door, he's helpless.

"Alton, grab the cube now!" If it's a weapon, maybe they can use it against whatever has likely killed Jesken.

Rolling for my Con save: [roll0]

[n0ble]

Carric feels revulsion flow under his skin, creeping through his ribcage then down his spine. In it's place is a lingering sense of cold that gnaws it's way into his bones. Even as part of his mountain tribe, Carric has never felt this kind of cold before. As the cold spread Carric tries to call on his power to create more warmth within his body. The cold thaws out into a new sensation: fear. "Whatever this thing is, it's charging up to do something" he says to no one in particular, glancing at the cube as he does.



Already rolled for CON in the OCC, got a 22

[GameOfChampions]

Alton glares at the druid with distaste in his eyes "Fine!" He snaps and quickly reaches out and grabs the cube with his left hand, his right tightening around his now drawn rapier as the sounds grow closer. 'These lunatics are going to get me killed sometime soon. God I wish I hadn't been forced into this group... goddamn archemage.'

Alton gags a bit as the weird magic hits him and his stomach starts o turn as the magic hit his body. He looks at the cube waiting for the thing to do something, preferably a something that got them out of this situation.

[Writtensanity]

The shockwave slams into Valesh and seems to hit him harder than the rest of the people in the room, his knees buckle as soon as it makes contact, and a moment later he struggles to keep balance and his hand on the cube.

He lets go as he begins coughing up blood, and almost instantly falls to the floor, eyes pale and empty, hopefully unconcious.

[3SecondCultist]

No. Lyral grabs the hand of the stranger on the ground. They've just lost the lieutenant, and probably Philipe as well. He doesn't know this strange looking man before, but he respects his obvious strength too much just to let him die here. If the hunters stick together, they will be unstoppable. Lyral uses the last of his healing magic to bring the foreigner back to his feet, and clasps him roughly on the back in the process.

"You were nearly lost, golden-man. I have brought you back so you can help us."

[Let'sGetKraken]

The cube glows brighter and brighter. Even those of you who aren't directly touching it can feels its power growing, activating. Unfortuntely, time is a resource that you don't have.

Valesh is barely back on his feet when the door is nearly knocked off its hinges by a second blow. With it comes a second, stronger pulse of energy, one that feels even more malevolent than the first. It threatens to overwhelm the four of you as the cube's runes shine blindingly bright.

Make another con save, please.

[GameOfChampions]

As the second wave of magic rolls over them Alton throws up a little in his mouth but holds himself together especially since its possible something will be coming through that door any second. He raises his rapier and gets in position, while still having a hand on the cube, in case whatever it is breaks through before the cube finishes whatever it does.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The four of you weather the second pulse, though you all feel sickened; something about this energy is fundamentally wrong. You can't even tell if the door has been broken - all you can see has been replaced by the blinding blue-white light. The, all of a sudden, nothing. The cube Alton and Carric carry is now humming with magical energy, each rune glowing with a fierce blue light. Each side forms an intricate rune - you instinctively know that touching a rune will result in... something. The door is intact, though you doubt it will remain that way for long, and you're not sure you can withstand another pulse.

[3SecondCultist]

Looking at the others and nodding, Lyral touches one of the glowing blue runes. They all seem equally unfamiliar, and it's not like they have time to figure out which one does what. A hunter never hesitates.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The blue-white light of the runs flare out, blindingly. The last thing you see before the flash is the door shattering to pieces in front of you. And then, faced with the burst of light, everything goes blank.

When the five of you wake up, everything is pitch black. Though you can't see the ground beneath you, it feels hard, like stone or densely-packed earth. Your ears are immediately assaulted by a howling wind, drowning out all other sounds and making all communication but shouting impossible. Dazed and confused, wherever you are offers you no sign of respite.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton rises a little stiff and disoriented from the journey 'Basics Alton basics, just make a fire then figure out where you are.' The halfling reaches into his bag and after a couple seconds he pulls out a torch, a flint, and a flask. Prioritizing he takes a long swig from the flask then pours just a bit on the torch head to help light it and strikes the flint trying to light the torch. As he does this he looks around and tries to figure out if anyone else was around or if they had somehow died on the journey.

It's pitch black so I roll with disadvantage I guess

[roll0] and [roll1]

[Let'sGetKraken]

Unfortunately, the howling winds extinguish the torch as soon as it is lit. For a brief moment, however, Alton is able to glimpse what seems to be some sort of small rock cave around him. In the brief moment of light, he can also see what looks like three figures lying on the rock nearby.

And then everything is dark again.

[3SecondCultist]

Memories come back in flashes. The cube, the broken temple. Where is he? What is this place? As he clambers about blindly, covering his ears in the howling dark, Lyral begins to feel something he hasn't encountered in a long time.

Fear.

When he was a boy among the wolves, he was always the first to plunge into the icy depths each spring. He would barely miss the rocks, and when he emerged, gasping, it was always triumph in his lungs. He's always survived. In the winter, when he huddled with his pack for warmth, he was never afraid to succumb to the cold. Animals died in the snows, and even the hunter could not escape the weather.

But this... this emptiness between spaces is beyond him. He has no idea how he got here. He doesn't know where anyone else is, and this darkness seems to have no end. Calling out for his companions, Lyral holds out against despair.

Rolling for my Perception as well, shouting above the wind (or trying to) in order to contact the others.

Perception: [roll0] and [roll1]

[GameOfChampions]

Alton struggles to control his breathing as the the strong wind blows out the torch completely. Trying to remember where he saw the others in the brief flash of light , he faintly hears Lyral shouting over the wind and with a deep breath tries to yell back as loudly as possible. "I'M OVER HERE. FOLLOW MY VOICE I HAVE AN IDEA!"

Alton quickly grabs four of his nine remaining torches out of his bag and breaks them into pieces, then takes one of his flasks of hard liquor and pours it all on the wood, lastly he pulls out the spirit catcher he had found in the desecrated grove of the vine blights from what seems like forever ago and clicks the button praying to all the halfling gods that it works. 'Ok if this works I'll use it to shed light and when it is about to go out I will explode it to light the fire.

So I'm hoping that a flask of hard liquor will function a bit like oil in this case. Also how long does the will o wisp last?

[n0ble]

His eyes fluttering open, Carric's ears are assaulted by the howling winds. By the Great Wyrms Scrotum, it seems I've traded one hell for another. What the **** was that thing that got the Lieutenant? Where the **** am I? Where the **** is the cube?.. He notes the hard ground on his feat and the darkness around him, taking reassurance from the seemingly stable footing. Let's change this whole darkness thing.. As he mutters a few words, he holds out his palm, creating four torch-sized lights that spill off his palm into the air around him into a square. The lights cast a baleful red glow about Carric, enhancing his darkvison. Much better. As the lights flank him, Carric begins to yell into the darkness, trying to take in his newly illuminated surroundings. "Big-Man? Alton? Where the **** is everyone?". As the wind howls around him, Carric swears he can hear a reply of some sort.


Rolling for perception with no disadvantage cause i have dark vision and torchlight [roll0]

[3SecondCultist]

Upon seeing Carric's light, Lyral staggers forward out of the darkness and gently grasps the scaled man on the arm. He almost tears at his vocal chords to raise his voice above the storm.

"Alton's nearby! He's right over there, he says he has an idea!" Pointing towards where he saw the light of the halfling, he tries to direct the sorcerer onwards. "Where do you think we are, anyway?"

[n0ble]

"I've no ****ing clue where we are! Certainly not on Everell anymore! We need to find the cube, when I was holding it i got the impression it was charging, no telling when it might do so again! Wheres the golden-skinned man?!" Whatever got the Lieutenant must have gotten Phillipe. Yet another I've person I'ved cared for dead. ****. The recognition of this flashes through Carric's mind, his anger at being teleported away suddenly reduced in the face of knowing that his friend has died. "Let's go find Alton, I could do with a bit of rest following all that nonsense." As Carric says this he cracks a grin, red light framing his features, but even a child could tell that the pyromancer is shaken by what has happened.

[Let'sGetKraken]

Looking around in the dim light, Carric spots the cube lying next to where the paladin still lies unconscious. Though it appears to be undamaged, the runes that cover it no glow; while it still has an arcane aura to it, it seems to be largely depleted of magical energy.

[Writtensanity]

Darkness.

Not the kind of darkness that Valesh was used to, it wasn't the darkness of being inside, or the cool of the night. It was a darkness from a place where the sun had.. died. The howling winds ripped across Valesh's skin as he woke up, still bloodied from his encounter with death in the temple. It stung his eyes; it slashed his skin. It was like the fiercest sandstorm, but the gales were empty.

Valesh pushed himself off the ground, finding the strength to force against the wind despite everything. He understood what was going on . Finally, he hadn't been home, but now he was again. He was home after he had failed after the light of Pelor had fled from the land to go bless a place that would be protected by his soldiers.

Valesh saw the cube lying next to him, and then turned to the man called Carric who was slowly walking towards him, a bright flame flickering in his hand, the only light in the area. The two didn't need to speak for Valesh to understand that he needed to grab the soulless cube and bring it to him. The runes didn't speak with power as they did before; they whispered in fatigue.

"Carric," Valesh began, handing the cube over to his new companion, "I know you haven't known me for long, but allow me to stay at your side for now. I understand that I wasn't home before, but I have nothing left to fight for here."

[GameOfChampions]

Alton sees the light Carric is shedding and heads towards it abandoning his little makeshift fire attempt, as he closes in with him and the paladin. He then presses the button on the spirit catcher and releases the small Will-o'-wisp from it. "FRIEND PLEASE GO SCOUT THE AREA AND REPORT TO ME WHAT YOU CAN SEE." Alton shouts above the storm straining himself to make sure the creature hears him. Trying to save his voice he points out the glowing spirit to Lyral and Carric and just yells one word "SCOUT."

After the Will-o'-wisp goes off to follow Alton's orders he stands beside the wounded paladin, noticing his dire condition he pulls out another healing potion and offers it to the paladin to try and help alleviate him of his pain. He then pulls out yet another flask and takes another long swig from it before wordlessly offering it to the others, excluding the paladin because hard drink may not be the best for him right now.

[n0ble]

"The last good thing about Everell left with the death of my friend, it can burn for all I care. It and all of it's ****ing runes." Carric growls above the wind. "I don't know how long this thing is going to take to charge, could be a couple more minutes, could be a month. We should find some kind of food or water after we rest. And shelter" he says to both men, nearly yelling himself hoarse in the process. He looks at the trio around him "Have any of you ever hunted or fought anything like what attacked us in the temple? The thing that got the Lieutenant?" And Phillipe At the mention of the thing in the temple, the lights surrounding the trio flash an angry crimson before returning to the same baleful red as before.

[Writtensanity]

Thankfully rejuvenated by the healing potion, Valesh stretches himself out for a moment, shaking his limbs and working out the kinks in his body from fighting the past while. Despite the roaring wind, it's the most calm that Valesh had been in for almost an entire day. The war had been strteching on, then the panic with his new group, the deafening wind cutting apart their voices was almost a blessing.

Hearing the sorcerer's words Valesh spoke up, "I didn't get a good look at the creature we fought, but I was more than a challenge for the wildlife of Heli. Whatever that was felt like the trickster that did this to my home. It didn't need to fight fairly or with the devine to hurt me."

[3SecondCultist]

On the word 'hunt', Lyral's face twists into a grimace. He would be better prepared for something like this in his home, in the woods. He knows nothing of this environment, the haunting movements of air across his face. What is this place? But more importantly, what was that thing in the temple? He's never felt anything like the kind of sickening feeling that the horror brought with it. The golden-man fell to it like wheat beneath a scythe. It's powerful, of that he has no doubt. A new predator. He isn't sure if the idea is exciting, or terrifying. Perhaps it is both.

"Not me!", Lyral calls out in response to Carric. "Nothing like that lived on Everell, as far as I know." Trudging over to the newcomer in order to better hear him, Lyral nods. So, another hunter who does not recognize the beast. That, at least, gives him a little comfort.

[Let'sGetKraken]

As you wait for the glowing ball of light to return with news of the surrounding area, the four of you notice how uncomfortable cold the environment around you is. While not immediately dangerous, it is more than enough to make your visit to this plane even more unpleasant. As Carric's dancing lights illuminate the cavern around you, and once you've been assured that you're not in any immediate danger, you can take the time to more thoroughly examine your surroundings. You're in a small and cramped cavern - it's only about eight feet high, and the walls are only about twelve feet apart. The cave is only about thirty feet long; at either end, it splits off into two dark tunnels, each only wide enough to support a single person walking through it at a time.

After a few uncomfortable minutes of waiting - none of you particularly feel like shouting - the ball of light zips back in from one the tunnels to your right. Turning to Alton, it speaks in a voice that is soft and quiet and yet somehow clearly audible over the howling winds: "Left passageways seem safest. Top right death. Bottom right hive." Having delivered its message, it explodes in a shower of sparks, and the four of you are left once more with only Carric's arcane illumination for comfort.

[n0ble]

"****. Great, so we have no way of getting anywhere but here right now. I don't know about the rest of you, but i need to rest, I have almost no power left. 'Sides, means i'll be better equipped to deal with whatever might through the right tunnel.Or if that thing comes for us again," Carric roars above the wind. Whatever this place is, I'd much rather recoup some heat before going anywhere. Plus the big man looks like he could get some rest too. he thinks, Glancing at Lyral. Carric stalks over to the far end of the chamber, sitting down with his front facing the entrance. "I can take first watch, my eyes can see better than the rest of you. When it's your turn, wake me if you need more light" he bellows. As he says this a meagre flame snaps into existence in his claw. His crossbow is propped on his knee at the right entrance.

[Let'sGetKraken]

As you settle down for the night, you become acutely aware of how the cavern is cramped and cold and the rocks beneath you jagged and uncomfortable. All the while, the wind howls maddeningly. Every time one of you almost gets used to it, the pitch or intensity will change, resulting in a near-sleepless rest for the four of you. Though it is sufficient time to bind your wounds and recover from the previous day's combat, as well as refresh your available spells, the four of you wake up the next day tired and sore. You are faced with a choice: you can venture down one of the four passageways in the hopes of finding water or shelter, or you can remain here and pray that the cube recharges before you run out of supplies.

Please make a DC 10 wisdom check. If you fail, you gain one level of exhaustion.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton stretches his arms and gives a jaw cracking yawn as he gets up. The wind had been annoying but he just had a couple swigs from his flask and he off to sleep and woke up feeling fine, still worried about possible impending doom on this plane but fine. As he pulls out some dried jerky from his dwindling supply he considers the choices 'How long will it take for the cube to recharge I'm tired of not being able to see.' The halfling then looks in the directions he knows the tunnels to be in 'I think we should try to keep under the radar I would rather not get into a battle when i can't see and with someone who is known as The Hive'. As the others start to awaken he Walks over and tries to communicate his thoughts of staying under the radar over the loud howling wind that had not stopped since they stopped.

[3SecondCultist]

Lyral sits in the half-light, staring straight ahead. He can feel the pull of this forsaken pit deep in his soul, but he has stood firm. Something about the air here just feels wrong, like termites crawling under his skin. He does not want to stay here. I just want to go home.

When he wakes up, nothing about his surroundings has changed. Being underground has never really been his thing, and of course it is beginning to get to him already. Preparing his daily allotment of magic, the druid attunes to the earth and stone around him. Of note is a magical escape mechanism which will allow him to blend in with his surroundings. He's never tried it before, but something about this place brings out the magic in him. Lyral isn't sure how to feel about that.

"I agree - we should head away from whatever is down there!" In the wilds, he is a hunter. But not here. He doesn't know anything about his environment here, so it would be smarter to avoid any kind of contact with other predators.

[n0ble]

Carric is in a field, the sun shining on his shoulders, warmth all around him. The scene before him is idillic in it's beauty, a meadow spilling out in front of a log wooden cabin, the smell of roasted meat in the air. Elk. His favorite. She is there standing before him, smiling. She opens her mouth as if to speak. And then it all goes wrong. Rather than the voice he knows, a scream greets him, her smile replaced by a look of pain and torture...

Carric jolts awake, the now familiar red lights joining him as he cracks his neck with a popping sound. The screaming from his dream is still present in the wind that careens around his body. His skin is oddly sweaty, made more odd by how his scales bear the same moisture. Banishing dreams of what could have been from his mind, he thinks This place is a deathtrap, trying to ignore the wind as it howls. Definitely a death trap. No sense in hastening my demise prematurely then. Especially if it's by something as ridiculous sounding as "the hive". Carrics hand and claw ball into fists at the thought, heat spreading out through his body. Back to form, it would appear the Great Wyrm smiles on me today, Carric thinks sarcastically, looking around at the others. "Left it is then?!" he yells with a forced smile, cocking his head in the vague direction of the tunnel.

[Writtensanity]

"Left seems as good a choice as any," Valesh pulls the cloth top of his leather armor over his mouth and nose, hoping to do something do avoid the howling wind that has been pounding away at them for hours now, he was used to this sort of wind out on the desert, but this was cold and seemed to ravage his psyche more than anything he had ever dealt with. Perhaps it was the darkness mixed with everything, there wasn't even the light of Pelor's pale sister here, "we need to find shelter better than this before something else finds us."

Valesh went to pull out his short sword, grabbing the ornate handle and pulling the shattered blade from his scabbard, "Dammit." he swore under his breath, untying the scabbard from his side. He switched it out for his rapier, though he preferred the slashing blade, it was better to have an unbroken weapon.

[Let'sGetKraken]

At Lyral's suggestion, the four of you take the top-right tunnel. It's tight squeeze, and all of you but Regis have to crouch slightly to enter the narrow space, which is only about four feet wide and five feet high. As you cram yourselves into the small tunnel, you're aware that Carric's light will only shine so far ahead. Behind you lies only darkness and the howling wind.

Your movement is slow and laborious, as the rough rocky floor and winding tunnel makes it dangerous to move faster than a crawl. The wind echoes through the tunnel; every few minutes it will change in pitch and intensity, the only method you have of measuring the time. Though the travel itself is only mildly exerting, the never-ceasing wind makes it absolutely exhausting. Carric's lights will occasionally flicker out as he re-casts the spell, leaving you momentarily conscious of how utterly isolated the four of you are.

This sensation is heightened when Lyral feels a few small pieces of rock brush against his back. Whirling around, he sees what looks like the roof of the tunnel collapsing above and behind him. The wind is loud enough to completely drown out the sound of the tunnel caving in. Leaping forward, he attempts to dodge as much of the falling rubble as he can.


For those of you who have seen the Descent, picture that. That sense of claustrophobia should be what your characters are all feeling right now.

Also, please make a DC 10 Wisdom Save to avoid one level of exhaustion. Lyral also needs to roll a Dexterity save to avoid being hit by the rubble.

[GameOfChampions]

As they walk through the tunnels Alton slowly starts to become more panicked and starts to hyperventilate slightly, as he hyperventilates his strength starts to sag and he becomes more and more tired as they trek. As the rocks fall to hit Lyral Alton jumps back in panic as his exhausted mind starts to play tricks and he fears even the terrain is starting to turn against them.

I failed a save

[n0ble]

Carric pays the wind no mind as they stalk through the tunnel. Despite hearing voices echo on their periphery his mind is a bastion against the howling. The sweat on his skin and scales dries as they progress. He remains uncharacteristically silent during the sojourn, opening his mouth to only to utter the words required for his lights. Don't want to yell myself hoarse. Might need to blast things later. he thinks irritably. His eyes scan over the other members of the party, and then beyond, They all seem fine on the outside...

...

"F***" Carric exclaims as the rocks fall towards Lyral, flame flaring in his clawed hand. His hand is pointed squarely in the direction from where the rocks fell. His eyes try to trace out anything in the dark that could have dislodged the rocks.


Perception Check to see what, if anything disturbed the rocks: [roll0]

[3SecondCultist]

As the pack sets forth, Lyral stays close to the rear, to the little-man. Alton doesn't seem happy with the rest of the group for getting us here. Still, he doesn't regret what he did back in the temple. At least here, they're alive. This place might be awful and dark and cramped and really not where Lyral wants to be right now, but the hunter still draws breath. And that, for now, will have to be enough for him to deal with.

Later, Lyral manages to stave off the negative effects of the plane, and tries his best to avoid the falling debris. Unfortunately he isn't quite fast enough, and is battered by the wayward stones.

Since I forgot to do this in the OOC thread, I may as well roll the Dex save here.

Dexterity Save: [roll0]

Edit: not sure if a 13 saves, I'll wait for Kraken to reply and edit my post as needed.

[Let'sGetKraken]

The rocks tumble down onto Lyral, who is unable to dodge the falling debris, which leaves him battered and bruised. Fortunately, he is able to climb free off the rubble quickly enough. As the four of you appraise the situation, it is clear that it would take either magic or a significant amount of time to clear the collapsed tunnel behind you.

Lyral takes [roll0] bludgeoning damage from the falling rocks, having failed the save.

[3SecondCultist]

Groaning, Lyral raises himself up from the rock pile. More to himself than anyone else, the druid says: "That was... not fun." Pulling out his druidic pouch, Lyral casts a spell of healing on himself to try and alleviate some of the damage caused by the cave-in. He motions to the others that they should continue, rather than turning back. There's no sense wasting their breath on the unknown.

Healing myself (casting Cure Wounds as a 1st level spell) for [roll0] damage. My spell list is up, by the way. I'm likely to cast Darkvision on myself if I get separated from the group.

Edit: hey, natural 8! Are there temporary hit points in this edition? :smallbiggrin:

[Let'sGetKraken]

The four of you continue forward - it seems like the environment on this plane is inherently hostile. As the wind howls around you and Carric's lights continue to flicker, time once again loses all meaning. The simple action of walking forward becomes dull and monotonous, and you find it impossible to focus on anything other than the wind.

And then, all of a sudden, Alton feels jagged claws raking along his side. In the flickering light, Lyral almost doesn't notice what looks to be rock-like claws emerge from the wall and strike the rogue. As quickly as they appeared, the claws mold back into the rock that makes up the tunnel wall to your right.

Three attacks against Alton: [roll0] for [roll1]
[roll2] for [roll3]
[roll4] for [roll5]

[Writtensanity]

Valesh remains silent for most of the trek, the howling wind making it almost impossible for him to speak without his voice being stolen away. His comrades are behind him, and he's left alone with his thoughts, resolute ahead of the group, forraging ahead with the meager light that the Sorcerer has given him.

As they continue onward, Valesh's eyes slowly begin to betray him, the darkness being absolute but smiling back, the wind slashing at his skin and leaving small cuts on the side. He checks his arms in panic, but there wounds seem to heal themselves before he can get a good look at them.

Valesh failed the save and is now lv 1 Exhausted.

The Paladin continues forward, trying his best to stave off the thoughts of his lost home. Parts of the puzzle aren't adding up, the networks of tunnels, the lack of sand, perhaps he wasn't home afterall, but if he wasn't anywhere near Heli, where in the blazes was he.

He doesn't ask, if he were to, the wind would steal away his voice.


Does my passive perception see the claws? I don't have any bonus' to it.

[Let'sGetKraken]

Though Alton mostly manages to twist out of the way of the attacks, there are red gashes from where the claws struck him. Even in the darkness, all but Valesh notice the savage strikes, though the howling wind and monotony of this chaotic plane has dulled your reflexes to the point where you can only gaze blankly at the rock where the claws struck the rogue. Suddenly, you see them again, striking out at the weary paladin at the front of the party, who (being ahead of the rogue) had been unaware to their presence.

Claw attacks: [roll0] for [roll1]
[roll2] for [roll3]
[roll4] for [roll5]

[n0ble]

"F***'s sake" Carric grumbles,more to himself than anyone else. As the claws strike out at the strange warrior ahead of him Carric whips out his crossbow pointing it directly at the strange claws. As he does, he notices a soft, orange presence inside each of the travellers he is with. It occupies the centre of their bodies as a vaguely spherical form. They yet have heat in their bodies. It seems this object has granted me new capabilites. Interesting. Lets see what we can do with that heat.


Rolling for initiative? [roll0]

[Let'sGetKraken]

The claws tear especially deep into the paladin's side, striking a weak point in his already damaged armor.

No need to roll initiative, actually. You can act right now in any particular order. Carric can save that for the next combat, if he'd like.

Also, rolling the crit damage: [roll0]

[Writtensanity]

The claws lash out at Valesh, who is able to quickly block two of the strikes with his deft shieldwork. The third finds it's mark, digging savagely into the Paladin. He feels the blood dripping down his side as he turns to the direction the claws came from, only finding the wall.

"Attack to the left!" Valesh shouts as he drraws his blade, wincing in pain as the strike hits true. Rather than trying to strike back, he brings his hand to the wound, "Pelor find me in this darkness and save me from harm!"

There is a soft glow from his side as the blood retreats into the wound, searing itself shut with the divine light of the sun.



I'll write how much of my LAY ON HANDS was used once I get the amount of damage dealt by that crit. Ouch.

[GameOfChampions]

Alton looks at the claws now appearing all over and winces as he remembers the sting from them. "What are these things how do we even hit them!" He shouts desperately while nocking an arrow and watching for the claws.

Legit question though can those of us with ranged/melee weapons hit them? I'm really confused. Do they go back into the rock or stay partially out of the rock and therefore able to be hit?

[Let'sGetKraken]

No, you can't hit them. The claws are emerging from the wall - whatever is attacking you is/are actually inside the rock around you. In the tight space where you are, you can't really dodge, and whatever it/they are can safely attack you from inside the rock. If you can think of a way of widening the tunnel around you, however, or if you find a larger tunnel...

Also, the two strikes were roughly six seconds apart.

[Writtensanity]

" I can't find a way to strike back! We need to find a palce where we can fight back against whatever this is" Valesh turns his view forward, where the torchlight is barely flickering ahead of the group. He then wordlessly begins to sprint into the darkness. If they are going to find a wider part of the tunnel, they are going to need to move faster than the walls of this avern can chase them.

[3SecondCultist]

Seeing the claws emerge, Lyral starts into action. His quarterstaff is already out, but he isn't able to strike the claws before they manage to sink back into the wall. He has a spell that might allow him access... but better to hold onto it for now. He can't properly hear Valesh, but he can follow the man's movements up the tunnel. The hunter understands the setup clearly enough.

[n0ble]

Great. Carric thinks sarcastically as his eyes track Valesh's movement. Well, best follow him while we still can. As the though passes through his mind, the sorcerer moves into a light jog so as to follow the warrior, the lights he has conjured following him, "Just follow my light, you won't lose me!" he roars at Lyral and Alton. As he gradually accelerates after Valesh, Carric wracks his brain for answers, trying to figure out what kind of creature would do something like this. All the while, he keeps his crossbow idly trained on the side of the tunnel that the claws had sprouted from.


Knowledge Arcana to see what the claws are: [roll0]

[Let'sGetKraken]

You don't know what, but the claws looked like they belonged to an elemental(s) or some sort - they seem to have been made of rock, like the walls of the tunnel.

As the four of you race quickly through the dark, stumbling, each of you feels the claws strike once. Finally, the tunnel widens into a cavern - wide enough for the four of you to stand abreast, and tall and long enough that you can't make out the ceiling or the other side of the cave. Carric's light barely illuminates it.

Creature's claw attacks result in 4 damage to Alton, 10 damage to Carric, 21 damage to Lyral, and 5 Damage to Valesh as you are all fleeing the tunnel.
Against Alton:
Claw 1:[roll0] for [roll1]
Claw 2:[roll2] for [roll3]
Claw 3:[roll4] for [roll5]
Against Carric:
Claw 1:[roll6] for [roll7]
Claw 2:[roll8] for [roll9]
Claw 3:[roll10] for [roll11]
Against Lyral:
Claw 1:[roll12] for [roll13]
Claw 2:[roll14] for [roll15]
Claw 3:[roll16] for [roll17]
Against Valesh:
Claw 1:[roll18] for [roll19]
Claw 2:[roll20] for [roll21]
Claw 3:[roll22] for [roll23]

[Writtensanity]

Valesh skids to a halt as he spins around to face the claws that were reaching from the walls. As the dust of his skid settles, he pulls his blade from it's scabbard, the sound crushed by the power of the howling wind. He poises the blade towards the walls, motioning silently for his allies to do the same. Has hasn't fought this sort of creature before, but he's been surrounded enough times to understand that you need to watch out for those around you.

I'm going to be using the dodge action for this round, makes it so that people attacking me have disadvantage, but I can't do anything else.

[n0ble]

Carric Curses as the elementals claws rake across his side. Upon reaching the cavern he stops and tries to slow his breathing down. His lights barely illuminate the surrounding area. Wherever we are now must be big. Plenty of Space to attacked "Whatever attacked us is an elemental of some kind, it's claws are made out of the same stuff as the stone!" he roars above the wind, keeping his crossbow trained on the ground below his feet, his claw pointed at the darkness behind Valesh .

[Let'sGetKraken]

For those of you wondering why it jumps here, we played an in-person session. This will likely be happening for combats in the future. The party defeated the starving xorn and killed it and then ventured across a bridge, where there were attacked by malevolent spirits.

As Carric and Alton slam back into the ground, Valesh's desperate sprint takes him off the rickety bridge and onto solid rock. As the three of them gather their bearings, Lyral's eyes, trained by a lifetime of hunting, spot the outlines of three flickering phantasmal forms. As their ethereal forms twist and shift, their shrieking wails cut through the howling winds and they gather their dark powers for another strike.

Roll initiative, folks.

[n0ble]

Carric lets out a loud wheeze as his form impacts with the unforgiving ground. Getting real f***ing tired of this wyrm****. Even as he rights himself he trains his crossbow on the nearest creature. His mouth starts to form words of power, growing in volume and intensity to a roar above the wind. Four pyramids of compressed air coalesce around his body and scream with remarkable intensity to the nearest apparition. At the same time, he trains his elf eyes on the same creature, loosing a crossbow bolt.





If the ghost things somehow get better than a 23 in initiative, just adjust my attack to target another one of them thats nearest to Carric

Magic Missile damage as a quickened third level spell: [roll]4d4+4[/roll}

Light Crossbow to hit: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]