Dragonmarks Elite: Ashes in the Storm (IC)

[CozJa]

Chapter one: Tears in the Gray

It’s been two weeks since your old friend Tasha contacted you to offer a ride on her airship to speak of… private matters. During the fly from Valenar to Sharn and then to Korth, she explained you of her work as a ‘contractor’ for a group of researchers known as ‘The Twelve’. Explaining that, for once, you may be a fellow researcher and not a guinea pig, she caught your attention.
“They may even help you clear your record and your… lack of friendship with house Cannith” she added.
Now, the voyage is over and Tasha left you with a note giving you an address. And a used ring of feather fall. Next time you meet she’d have to explain if “not this time, just jump down” is part of ‘Lyrandar comfortable Airship experience’

When Sora Teraza gave you three sheet of papers recommending not to eat them, or tear them, or use them behind a bush, you were somewhat perplexed. Even more so when she explained that you have to exchange one of them in Sharn to take a ‘Ligthing Rail’ trip, and that didn’t mean to knock down a Shaman. The voyage on the lighting rail was comfortable enough, especially considering the fact that your coach was basically empty for all the trip.
Leaving the lighting rain, two men wearing a white coat and very worried face controlled the second piece of paper you have, called ‘Identification Paper’, and escorted you from the railstation through the city Wards, leaving you in front of an internal wall, to follow the last part of the third piece of paper: a map of Korth pointing at a house in the Merchant Ward. Probably you didn’t need it at all, being a minotaur, but they were ‘gentle’ enough to show you the way.


Last day, after over a month of waiting, you received a message from a warforged artificer called Blind, who fought with you during the last war and sponsored your admission into a group called Dragonmarks Elite; He told you how, when and where to meet for your first mission in this group dedicated to the pursuit of peace and justice. After paying for a quick teleport, it was easy for you to reach Korth in time.

You can still perfectly remember what J’arn told you a week ago: “You see, Tars, the Ghorad'din need to be part of this Dragonmarks Elite Projects and you are one of our best agents. If not the best, in some fields. Therefore we will send you to work with those wizards for a while. And be mindful... Discover whatever you can about them.
I’m not exactly sure of how this organization work, but many in the Mror Holds would like to have new informations on house Kundarak dealings, for good or for ill, and we must be prepared.”

After this, packing your things up and departing for Korth was only a matter of hours, and now you are reaching the address J’arn gave you.


You woke up early in the morning, finishing your preparation, knowing that the day will be long; the Dragonmarks Elite are an important group, but you heard that, for the first time since you entered them, you will not work with more experienced agents. This time, you will be the veteran.



http://i42.tinypic.com/ipxszl.jpg

The sky over Korth is beautiful as usual during this time of the year. The sun shines brightly, reflecting its rays across the city, occasionally scintillating over the White Lions, Karrnathian elite guards, or retired soldiers glamered with parade armors.
The imposing walls and ample roads filled with people, in concert with the robustly built palaces, confer to the city an austere and imposing look, as if the whole weight of Galifar’s history was sustained by its towers, else it would overwhelm all its inhabitants.

Travelling through vendors voices, the moist perfume of peppered cuisine and a whole lot of farmers and artisans crowding the streets, you are able to reach a discreet house, lying between a bakery and a butchery. At the door, a half-orc lightly dressed that was clearly waiting for somebody, opens the door and let you enter.

Inside the house there are no different rooms, and a table with three chairs is the only furniture you can see, with a teleport circle occupying almost half of the place. An elegant man, wearing red-blue fine clothes, rolls up his sleeves while he concentrates on a yellow-lit stone in front of him; on his right forearm the mark of house Orien is clearly distinguishable.

The Half-Orc who ushered you in the house explains: “We had an unexpected transport minutes ago, You’ll need to wait some time for Lodai to regain his focus, sorry for the inconvenience” He stops for a moment, looking at Riyas with an somewhat embarrassed expression. “We’re always the last ones to hear about what's happening! At least you all have time to present yourselves... let me know if you wanna drink, I should have a bottle of Rekkenmark beer somewhere.” The Half-Orc looks around the room, but none of you is clearly sure at *where* exactly he is looking for a bottle.


Keeping there links to the OOC thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?517522-Dragonmarks-Elite-Ashes-in-the-Storm-(OOC))and your sheets

Crasher (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1089634)
Tars d'Kundarak (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1106890)
Emissary Fellhorn (https://www.myth-weavers.com//sheet.html#id=1100090)
Tanner's Knife (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=774811)
Riyas d'Jorasco (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1089656)

[Malimar]

Tanner's Knife was pleased to get out of Valenar -- he may not be the most attentive warforged in the world, but over the years he's acquired some experience in detecting when anti-him sentiment is on the rise. He's almost learned how to start noticing it even before the pitchforks and the torches come out! So Tasha's arrival and offer to get him out of the area came at a most opportune time.

Tasha's description of 'The Twelve' and the opportunities they offer definitely sparked Knife's interest, and so he was more than willing to take the ride down (whee! a most bracing experience!) and the directions.

Reading the address on the note and wandering the city and paying no mind to any stares and gawping he might attract, Knife passes by his destination several times before the half-orc attracts his attention, at which point he correctly identifies the house as his destination, and enters with a freakish grin to the door-person.

Tanner's Knife is an old, well-used, battered, dinged-up warforged with a slender, elegant chassis obscured by many years of "improvements". Somebody's removed the standard-issue composite plating and bolted on lighter and more decorative mithral and biologically chitinous plates, not quite the right shape or size, in its place, and somebody's jammed a miscellany of gently glowing (and occasionally sparking) crystals and gems into his body. His face and jaw have been altered with extra points of articulation, giving him the ability to approximate a wider range of human expressions (and thereby to fall more firmly in the Uncanny Valley). His exterior has been adorned with painted, engraved, enameled, and embossed decorations in many colors, though the paint is now so faded and flaked that it's difficult to see what some of the decorations might have once represented. He has strange moth-like antennae sprouting from his head, and a strange, twisted, winged weasel rides his shoulder.

Knife looks around, looks at the half-orc, looks around, looks at the half-orc, looks around, looks at the teleportation circle, looks around, and eventually answers the half-orc's offer with a, "Yes, a small glass for my Fork would be pleasant." He points at the winged weasel. Knife himself hasn't yet been able to equip himself with a sense of taste or a liver or a bloodstream that can be affected by alcohol, but he can still get the relevant sensations through his empathic link with his familiar. It's half the value of having a familiar!

Knife does not notice the table, the chairs, or anyone other than the half-orc unless they bring themselves to his attention.

[LairdMaon]

After taking a moment to study the map of Korth, Emissary Fellhorn plots a course that appears least likely to have many people in his way.
He breaks into a healthy jog, the kind that a fit combatant can keep up for hours on end, and threads his way through the alleys and byways of the city. Obstacles like aqueducts pose no hindrance as Emissary casually leaps over, or slides under as the case may be, them and hardly slows a pace.

In time he approaches the butcher's shop and, almost as though lost in thought, passes by to the door half-orced for the purpose of letting him in.

And, no. That wasn't a bow as Emissary Fellhorn entered the room, he merely had to duck to avoid scraping the rafters.

[Chambers]

Tars

Never liked being in Karrnath. Tars keeps at the edges of the crowds, not wanting to disturb anyone or be disturbed in return. Not that found of many Karrnathi, either. Checking to make sure his purse was still on his belt and that no crazed Emerald Claw terrorist had suddenly snuck up behind him, Tars spotted the half-orc sentry and picked his way through the crowd. "Thanks, pal." Tars says to the man as he slips inside. The dwarfs traveling leathers and cloak are a soft grey and brown color and a very sharp waraxe rests at his hip, hanging on a strap slung across his chest.

"Woah." He says as he stops just across the threshold, staring at the enormous teleportation circle on the floor. "That...well, wasn't expecting that to be sure." He says and steps carefully around the ritual diagram as if it's merely sleeping and might awake and decide to eat him. "Hello there. Name's Tars. Rekkenmark?" He asks, then shakes his head. "No thanks. I'll just stand..." He looks around at the strangely empty room and chooses a corner slightly closer to the door. "...here. Take your ease, mage. No rush here. So." He says, looking about at the other people in the room. "Everyone, uh...excited for our first mission together? Let's all try not to die, right?"

[Ellowryn]

Obviously Crasher says to the dwarf as he enters. Dying makes it hard to complete our task, and for the good of all we must succeed.

He follows the dwarf around the strange runes carved into the floor. Never one for magic, Crasher at least knew not to mess with large delicately carved circles of only the gods know what.

Are we all assembled? He says looking around.

[supernerd]

Riyas checked that his hair and clothes were in order, or as in order as they could be, and opened his side door. He turned around with his hands on his hips as he looked at the two piles of bones that filled his above ground floor. "Now you two are going to stay put while I'm at my meeting, so: Stay here, If anyone attacks, knock them out; don't start the fight." He then was off to the secret entrance. He wouldn't want to be walking around with war machines on either side when they'd need to wait outside. Still, there was Haebor over his shoulder. "And I want you on your best behavior. No plotting the destruction of the neighbors' marriage, at least not out loud. They have three children and pay their dues. At least that nice woman down the street has a drunk for a husband."

"You're no fun. That's like beating a toddler in a race."

"You'd sooner kill the toddler, wouldn't you."

"I'm no demon. There's no art in that."

He waved to the half orc at the door, taking a deep breath as he held his fingertips together. "Okay, you can do this. You've been a leader before. You're one of the most powerful necromancers of the present day." He stepped inside and took stock of the people who'd arrived, noting one man that looked about as tall as his guards. He nodded when the half-orc came in mentioning their last minute hold up, smiling sympathetically. "You're doing your best, and that's all anyone can ask. I'll pass on the Rekkenmark. What passes for a glass for you tall folk goes right through me and I prefer being able to walk to my chair unassisted." He gave a slow chuckle as the two talked of death. "Yes, well, I don't think any of us need to live if our goal is to complete the task at hand. I like to think we're here to help each other be ready to fight the next one. I was told it would be five of us including myself, so I do believe we're just waiting on the circle. It's rather hard to operate. Lodai is a good mage, though. There have been theories proposed of teleportation circles that could suspend themselves, at least I think there was. But I doubt anyone but the oldest of the dragons could produce such a spell."

He walked closer to the other warforged in attendance, noting his antennae that he'd missed before. "Is that? It is! Why didn't they tell me I'd be seeing Tanner's Knife around here? It's been too long. How've you been?"

Edit: Haebor the Imp mostly just sits on Riyas' shoulder, unhappy about having to be nice.

[Malimar]

When addressed, Knife is startled out of staring into space and takes notice of the others! Especially the halfling! "Oh, hello! Hello, comrade Riyas! Very long, indeed."

Fork, the winged weasel, makes friendly chittery like-weasel-but-not-exactly noises at Haebor. Familiar buddies! Or at least the weasel thinks they're familiar buddies, anyway.

Either serious or deadpan, Knife updates Riyas on his doings since they last met: "I have been getting into trouble. I trust you have been doing much the same?"

"But I have not yet acquired a reputation in this city, so perhaps the great work can proceed uninterrupted for a time. But first, or possibly concurrently, the task at hand. Do you know much that would be good to know of what is to happen today?"

[supernerd]

Riyas covered his mouth at the warforged's stories. "Why would I have thought you were doing anything else? But I've actually stayed relatively out of trouble. Well, as out of trouble as one of our line of work can stay. Oh! I've got some wonderful toys to show you when we head off."

The devil held a hand to his forehead, speaking to the halfling in their own undecipherable code. "<Is this really all you have me doing? Does he really think that I can understand him?>"

"<Be nice. He's probably just used to communicating without language. Still, it's better than nothing.>"

"<Fine.>" the Imp began speaking in Infernal to the weasel, hoping the admittedly adorable abomination might have a chance at being taught the language. Mostly it was small talk, but he had nothing better to do.

"Sorry about that. He's got some behavior issues, but what can you do? At any rate, I've actually been up to things in this place. I've been trying to move past things since the war. I've finished what I think I can manage with the dirge. I can bring the dead fully back to life for a short time with my singing, well, unlife. I'm trying to take my art in a different direction. The war is behind us, and I'm trying to capture the new air of hope we can feed the children now that my time drawing inspiration from death has borne what fruit it will. Of course, never forget your roots, and I'm sure to use these skills, but back to the other thing.

"Have you ever heard of the half-elf Tagor the Mad? No?" Riyas leaned up against the wall, having no real furniture of note. "That's because we shattered his alliances and discreetly assassinated him before he could press Breland too far. That's what we're here for. I know I saw too many lost in those wretched years; sure, I came out of it stronger, but so many came out of it dead. I'm no better a healer than the temple adepts or those of my family, so there's little work for someone who's a much better asset as a substitution for soldiers. Here they work to keep the peace, and to take care of threats before they cause too much tension. And it lets me work at my full capacity."

He shook his head and looked to the others. "Where are my manners?" The halfling took a small bow to the group. "I am Riyas Shadow-Maker, Necromancer and Singer of Life and Death." The halfling, dressed in clothing of mismatched color and with a smile on his face, would look nothing like a necromancer were it not for his incredibly pale skin. However, on his left cheek rested the mark of house Jorasco, unable to hide lest he hide his whole face.

[LairdMaon]

Emissary Fellhorn stalks up to the gathered warriors, makes a show of examining each in turn, grunts contentedly, and drops down to sit cross-legged. He looks around once more.

Well, what's the job? Am content to fight at your side. We will make paste of the foes of this realm.

With those rumbled statements, he reaches into a pouch and pulls out a piece of ¿beef? jerky.

[Ellowryn]

Crasher raises what amounts to an eyebrow at the Halflings mention of animating dead (if only temporarily), but otherwise lets it pass.

My name is Crasher, he gives a small bow to the group, Holy Warrior of Good and Light. Also, i second the question about our actual mission. Does anybody know?

Crasher made a mental note to keep an eye on the halfling. Experience has taught him that necromancy isn't just about creating abominations but even the best intentioned practitioners fall into the trappings of playing god.

[supernerd]

Riyas runs his hand through his hair after hearing the phrase "Holy Warrior of Good and Light." "Fffffffff, yeah..." he looked to the imp on his shoulder. "<You might want to switch to Celestial>." He then looked back to Crasher and pointed to Haebor. "Does he need to be a raven?" Then he looked back to the imp. "<You might need to be a raven.>" He tapped his index fingers. "Be prepared for my body guards, and remember that everything I do is legal so destruction of private property yadda yadda. At any rate, your guess is as good as mine. They rarely hand out the mission details until we're all in the headquarters."

[CozJa]

The half-orc is relieved after all the presents refute his offering, apart from the weas-bir-wi... Wingy-thing staying on the leaner Warforged's shoulder.

He continues looking around the room, knocking on the walls a couple of time while the others are talking, then comes back to Knife, shrugs and shows him an almost empty bottle, smiling obliquely with a grin almost as uncomfortable as one of the fleshy warforged 'enhanced' expressions..

[Ellowryn]

Does he need to be? I profess to not knowing much about magical companions so i have not the slightest about what form it might need to be in. Crasher leans in (and down) to get a good look at the creature. It is... bound, i think that's the right term, to you correct? As long as it acts within the rules set down by the Elite i doubt any of us will have any issue with it.

And if you would be so kind as to enlighten me to these rules of Korth that your "companions" abide within? Or in all of Khorvaire? It seems we have the time. The warforged continues to stare at the familiar while waiting for the halfling to continue.

[Chambers]

Tars

"That war may be behind us but the next one is always waiting." Tars says with a shrug to Riyas. "Don't have a fancy title myself, unfortunately. Should look into that, seems everybody's getting one these days." He stares in confusion at the half-orc and opens his mouth to speak a few times but just shakes his head instead. "I don't care much for the undead, but if the Elites don't have an issue with them I suppose I'm not one to make a fuss about it."

Ready to move on when the others are ready.

[supernerd]

"Okay. <Looks like you do you.>" Riyas began pacing a little bit. "Well bound isn't the most accurate term, he's my familiar. At any rate, the animation of the dead is a legal practice in Karrnath, and elsewhere in Khorvaire it is the act of animation that is of legal consequence. I carry permits for my private property and they are considered such after the time of animation as per the Treaty of Thronehold. Any undead created in the middle of combat rarely last beyond the encounter, and those that do are disposed of."

Also ready to move on unless I need to prepare a legal treatise.

[Ellowryn]

Well, we can have a look at these permits later, but as long as you abide by the rules against the acts of animation there shouldn't be any problems. Crasher sighs before moving away. Remember, we are supposed to protect Khorvaire, not create more problems.

I believe i may need to have some words with Blind after this is over, He thinks to himself, Unpredictable is rather a large understatement for this group....

[CozJa]

As you are talking, the man with the dragonmark calls you.

“I’m ready now, you can come, place youselves in the circle”

As you follow his instructions, you enter the teleport circle and Lodai d'Orien concentrates on the ledge before him; as his dragonmark glows, the faint yellow of the shard turns green, and all the apparatus around you starts humming on a low note, as the symbols on the floor blur in the same green. A circle of light sorrounds you and, after a brief moment, the light disappears, and the entire apparatus return silent and inert, except for the shard that is again yellow. As you look around, you notice that the new room you find yourselves in is of a perfect cubic form, and all his walls are made of iron. Walking on it release a metallic rumor that creates an acute echoing effect.
The Orien scion opens his eyes and looks at you with a distant glare, a bit dazed by his effort; as he lean on the ledge sustaining the shard, slowly gasping, you see another human signaling you to follow him.

The middle-aged man wears a practical red vest, covered with a chain shirt, and carries a longsword
on his left side. You can distinctly recognize the mark of Sentinel on his right hand. He opens a door on the teleport room, and as you follow him, you find yourself in a long corridor. The difference between the previous room (and the pathetic house were you met) is striking: all the floor is covered with a purple brocade carpet, spotting complicated patterns that seem to recall dragonmark symbols. The stone walls are painted of different colors, and reinforced with marble columns; you can see many doors, all without handles, and all of them have a shard encrusted on the right jamb.
The man stops at one of the doors, and he opens his palm in front of the shard, which glows faintly.
Almost immediately, the door disappears, and you can enter the new room.


You recognize the shard as a modified Kundarak Keycharm, set to respond only to the bearer of a specific mark.

Entering here, you see that the elegant workings of the corridor are continued in the large room, with a ceiling at least 20ft high, substained by four marble coloumns. A large round table with at least thirtheen seats stands at the centre, the Deneith warden who escorted you there stops and tells you to seat; as you place youselves on the various seats, you notice that they adjust automatically to your phisique, becoming comfortable.

“As none of you apart from Riyas knows me, I’m Laers d’Deneith, High-Warden of the Twelve. You are now in our briefing room; before we start, I want to… thank you, for being there. The Agents are not looking for capable people, nor searching for season adventurers, we are looking for the best men that can accomplish the worst jobs. And if you are here, it is because you are the best ones around.” He stops for a moment, as if to let his words linger around, as if he was prepared to this speech and wanted it to have as much effect as possible.
“Our task is to maintain peace around Khorvaire, and that can be done in many ways. For you, I have two specific tasks in mind.”

He seats and taps on the table twice; from the center, a silent image appears, showing a man with long black hairs throwing a fireball into a crowded district, seen from distance, as if it was looked upon by a bird.

“The man you can see is Maelis Satero former Knight Arcane of Aundair, and currently wanted for war crimes. The tribunal of Thronehold, represented by Lord Evam Taralos of Thrane, requested us to find and apprehend this criminal. After five months of investigations, Tharashk inquisitives were able to track his movements and pinpoint the last location in which he was seen: the village of Blowfall, east of Vathirond. What is really interesting about it, is that people is disappearing from Blowfall from at least six weeks, and Maeils himself was impossible to find. The tribunal sent an inquisitive, but they had no news from him. That’s why Evam Taralos requested our help; it looks like some nobles in Thrane are using Maelis disappearance in Breland as an excuse to stir up anti-brelish sentiments, and we don’t want this to go on. Your first and foremost task is to find Maelis and bring him back alive, so that he can be properly judged by the Tribunal. If, when you are there, you find the time to investigate on the disappearances, that will be a bonus for your work. But remember: Maelis comes first.”

He takes some dossiers, handing them to you

“Those will give you the informations you need. Any questions?”


Content of the dossiers may be found in the second post of the OOC thread

[LairdMaon]

Emissary Fellhorn peers closely at the silent image before and after reading the dossier.
"the use of matter manipulation to extend weather modifications". Large area effects. Bad weather. Guess can understand why you want the best to squish him. You want him dead or alive? Hope dead.

[Chambers]

Tars

"That's handy." Tars says as the Warden opens the warded door. "Nice chairs." He says as he takes a seat. "So, we're the best at doing the worst things, is it? Not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that." He says with a chuckle. "If you want to bring peace to this mage here, killing him's the easiest way. No offense to any present, but they can't wiggle their fingers at you if they haven't got any hands. Just sayin'." He says.

"Alive though? You sure?" Tars shrugs. "Allright, I'll give it a shot. Alive isn't really my specialty though. How we gettin' there?"

[LairdMaon]

Fellhorn looks to Tars, "He said alive? Hrm, missed that. Did he say whole? A magic man can live without fingers, or hands, or arms..."

He take a small bite of his ¿beef? jerky and sits back in his chair, "Plenty of meat there..." he mutters.

[Malimar]

Perhaps the almost-empty bottle contains just enough beverage for Fork; being but a little weasel, he doesn't need much.

Meanwhile, Tanner's Knife contemplates the Holy Warrior of Good and Light. Knife, of course, considers himself something of a holy warrior of good himself, though light is less relevant to him than blood. He has found that holy warriors of light and Good tend to come into conflict with holy warriors of blood and good, so, his moth-like antennae twitching, he makes a note to himself to keep an eye on that one.

Everyone else seems fine and unproblematical!


Then he obediently heads into the circle with the others when so indicated!

Teleportation!

On the other side, Knife takes note of a few irrelevant details of his surroundings while missing most of the more important details!

He sits when directed to do so, inspects the silent image when it appears, pays close attention to the instructions and the dossier. "Well, that's just terrible. So many people unable to express the destinies of their blood. Tsk, terrible, at the expense of others is not the proper way to express your blood. Bringing this Maelis in should be within our capabilities, yes? Alive -- hmm, difficult, but doable."

[Ellowryn]

I agree that bringing him back alive will be problematic. We will need the proper supplies to do so, which shouldn't be hard to gather, but i myself have no real experience with tracking and subduing people. Does anybody else here have any? Crasher says while pondering the Silent Image.

Satisfied that the image is burned into his brain he looks up and continues. The smuggling ring will be far more difficult as that will require no small amount of guile and trickery to investigate. And we, He gestures to the other Warforged and the Half-thing, are not very subtle. They could of course make it easy and just send everyone in the ring to kill us but if they have eluded authorities so far they are unlikely to make such a blunder.

Of course we will do everything in our power to try and complete the missions given us. Have no doubt about that, just be aware that the skills required to do this mission are beyond what many of us are capable of.

[LairdMaon]

"Heh, tracking can do. Still think subduing is best done by taking his arms off. Heal him just enough to staunch the bleeding..."

[CozJa]

Laers listen to your considerations, hesitates a moment, and then speaks again:

"I know I'm gonna regret saying this, but Mr. Fellhorn there has a good point. As long as you can bring him back alive, you can do what you deem best to incapacitate him. Pretty sure Jorascos can find a way to fix almost anything. But, please, please, try not to kill him, trials with a dead indicted are really annoying, and using speak with dead is spooky and looks like asking for an appeal."

[supernerd]

Riyas pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked over the dossier, letting the team gather their ideas how they would. He couldn't help but give a quick snort when the power of Jorasco was mentioned. After a quick translation to his familiar, he leaned back in the fitting chair. "Well, I've had experience talking through problems, though I'm not quite the one to go to for investigation. I'm sure we can manage something, even if it's just blowing it wide open, possibly literally. As far as Maelis is concerned, having him bound and gagged is a start, but far be it from me to stop our friend here from somewhat permanently removing his ability to produce somatic components. At the very least, I suggest burning or pawning his spellbook. I hope he has conjuration barred, otherwise we'll be in for a treat with teleportation. Still, I think this is manageable."

[CozJa]

"We don't know if he has any fast-teleport capabilities, but as much as we were informed, he didn't. Anyway, as I said, We are sending you because the inquisitive disappearance already demonstrated that this is not the rightful approach. You have the full power of the Twelve, and are appointed by the Tribunal of Thronehold. Furthermore, the Brelish government gave us permission to act, so you won't have problems, as long as you don't go around creating more problems that you are supposed to solve. Remember, the only official request is to bring back Maelis Satero alive, whatever else happens, it's up to you. Now..."

He raises and approaches the door, waving at it again to reopen the passage.

"... We have arranged for a teleportation near the outskirts of Blowfall, across the road toward Vathirond. departure is scheduled at two hours from now. In the meantime, prepare yourself if you need something to take with you, and... remember to pay a visit to Master Stannix before you go, he will have something to give you."


you notice a brief frown when he says the name 'Stannix'


As you exit, he points you to this Master Stannix door, and salutes, going back to the briefing room.

[LairdMaon]

With a nonchalance that looks a bit awkward on something as monstrous as Emissary Fellhorn, Emissary stands up and starts walking in the direction of Master Stannix.

He mutters to himself, Breland, first job has to be in Breland. The Daughters had to know be sent to Breland...

[Malimar]

Knife smiles freakishly at Laers, and concludes, "We will do our best!" Fork the weasel-thing gives a little salute from Knife's shoulder.

Then Knife ambles with the rest of the group to Master Stannix's door, and, not having the proper apparatus to make the door function (though he wonders if he could possibly coax it into functioning without the apparatus, he thinks it more sensible not to try) nor knowing the proper procedure... knocks on the door!

[Ellowryn]

Crasher salutes back as the man walks off, the turns to the rest of his party while waiting for the result of the knock.

[CozJa]

As Knife knocks on the door, a rumor of gears working starts, and the door starts to enclose itself into a spiral, giving you the space to enter.

As you walk in, you find yourselves in a completely different room from what you’ve seen so far: clocks and gears and strange pieces of workmanship are lying all around the place, with flasks of oil and other components apparently thrown on the paved floor or on two wooden tables.
On the far wall of the room you can see at least six dismantled or partially reconstructed armors made of different materials and clockwork gears, with tubes and handles sprouting from their insides.
On the right, a little creature, a Homunculus, is hammering a mold-less piece of metal over a marble table; and whenever you look around, you are distracted by a swarm of clockwork insect-like creatures, that are flying around the room producing a constant buzzing.

A muscular man who was working on one of the armors approaches you wielding a work-hammer in his left hand. His fine lineaments and the elegant beard that covers a Cannith dragonmark on his mandible and neck are immediately contrasted by the fact that his wearing only a ripped smithy vest and that he is covered in oil spots over his body. His right arm is, in fact, made of a golden metalloid substance, that seem to perfectly enter into the shoulder, as if it was actually a real arm. On the end of it, in place of the hand, there’s a warforged fist that is attached into the golden arm in a way that looks a lot less elegant than how the arm connects to the shoulder.

The man smirks and let his hammer fall on the floor with a loud **thong**, then he speaks:

“Ah, the new amazing squad. So… let me guess… Laers sent you? I suppose that after all his idiocies he knows what you need to get something done.”
He turns and starts searching for something into a pile of broken components over a table.
“Did he already gave you his motivational speech? ‘the best in doing the best’ and pleasurabilities like these? Now where the… ah! Found it!” He extracts a strange device from the rubble, and returns toward you, extending the object; it looks like a miniature pail covered from a translucent wrap, with two handles on its sides, and an inert shard into it.
The man smiles looking at you, as if you’d know what it is, then he looks at you with a puzzled expression.
“he didn’t tell you anything, eh?”

[LairdMaon]

Emissary steps into this new room and very suddenly looks exactly how he feels: Entirely out of his depth. He daintily avoids all the mechanisms that click and whir.

"You are Master Stannix, yes?" he asks the man with the steel arm. "Nice bucket. And, no, he didn't say a thing about what you do."

[Chambers]

Tars

"Well. I didn't get you anything in return. Sorry." Tars says to him. "Amazing squad? Is that our name?" He says, mostly to his comrades. "We can have a better name than that, right?" Tars pokes a broken component with his finger until he realizes that he probably shouldn't and looks back at the mastermaker. "So what's it do? That thing." He says, pointing to the expensive bucket.

[Ellowryn]

Crasher staresa bout the room in amazement before focusing on the the mans right arm. He only glances at the object being presented.

No, we were just simply led here after the motivational speech... Crasher trails off while still staring at the arm. And if you want a better name Tars then why don't you come up with one yourself, i truly do not care about such things.

[supernerd]

Riyas shows up into the room last, glad that his house was only a short walk away from the base. Haebor rode on his shoulder still, but he was followed by two massive assemblies of bone walking of their own accord. He spoke in common to the imp, not intending to hide his conversation, "Well, with someone as tall as our new horned friend, I suppose these two won't really have any trouble fitting into places much." His eyes turned outward to the room. "I must say, this is always a wonder to see. Now, did I hear Amazing Squad? That's one more vote on a tentative name of Amazing Squad."

Anticipating a harsh look from the Holy Warrior, he gave a look of his own, as if over nonexistent glasses. "I made them to be useful, so I'm not just going to leave them sitting at home when I'm on the job." The halfling kept walking to the artificer, offering a handshake with one hand and reaching for the pail with the other. "Master Stannix, good to see you again!" He knew exactly what to do with the pail.

I'm sorry for being so infrequent, but Riyas was out getting his bone piles when break was called.

In other news, I have no idea what to do with the pail. But Riyas does. probably...

[CozJa]

The man looks at the newly entered halfling and his undead monsters. "Oh Riyas, welcome back. I see that Mongo and Clango are still alive and well. Or... probably only well. Remember, if you ever get bored of them I need to do some testing for a new weapon I'm working on! Anyway..."

He waves a bit the micro-pail again, while speaking: "I suppose that Riyas could tell you what it is, but since I'm bored to talk only to a stupid Wright and a couple of mechabees..." as He says the word "Wright" you see the homunculus briefly staring at the man with a expressionless 'face', than returning to his work "... This is a Dragonshard Fueled Advanced Communication System. You can use it to contact somebody you know, but only once a day. Ok, I know what some of you are thinking. 'Hey Stannix, doesn't a Minor Schema of Sending do the same thing?'... No! It doesn't, because you can not only speak how much you want for 10 minutes every day, but you and the other person can even see each other when you are doing it!"
He extends it again at you, smiling "Isn't it amazing? I did it!"



So, the Dragonshard Fueled Advanced Communication System is nothing more than an advanced Scrystone using Shadow Eyes (more on them in Dragonmarked book, dragonshards items): 10minutes/day you can contact another person with an equivalent 'bucket' and exchange informations, dividing the 10 minutes as you see fit.
If you have the Dragonmark of Shadows, or can make a DC25 UMD check, you can instead use it to communicate with a willing creature whose image appears in the scrystone, sending and receiving mental images for 1 minute, that cannot be divided during the day.

Basically, the second ability is a High emergency system, in case you need to contact someone specific, while the first one is the supposed normal use of it. If you expend more than 5 minutes during a day using it normally, you cannot use the second ability for this day.

[Malimar]

Knife inspects the surroundings. He has been in such places before -- his father Tanner's workshop was similar, albeit with much less complexity in terms of items.

Absently, "Yes, clearly 'amazing' is our nature." At least in the sense that most of the party induces amazement in onlookers.

Knife approaches Stannix, inspecting him, especially the joint between the man's battlefist-arm and human shoulder. "Yes, a most impressive bucket. ...Did you start organic and replace your arm, or did you start warforged and replace everything else?" Regardless of the answer (assuming the former answer, it elicits an expression of mild disgust from Knife, soon overridden by curiosity), Knife begins to pepper Stannix with obscure technical questions about the nuances of integrating organic meat-parts with warforged components, a topic in which he has great interest.

[CozJa]

As he waits for somebody to recognize his crafting ability (probably without success), Stannix is distracted by Knife questions, and answers him, almost forgetting what he was talking about: "Oh, the arm, you mean? I got bored of it, kept losing my wands, so I replaced it with this extraplanar construct. Then I thought that, well... in for a Sovereign, in for a Galifar, and just put the Warforged fist on it." He looks with fascination at Knife, following the patterns of his 'modifications'.

"Oh, you're doing it backwards?! Cool!" He says, answering Knife questions as much as he can.

[LairdMaon]

Alright, the mini-bucket-far-talky magic toy is great, but that arm looks really very useful..

"Master Stannix, you got bored of your arm and replaced it? That is impressive. Think you could make a matched set for someone of size? Am a creature of flesh, earth and stone, adding steel seems fitting."

[CozJa]

Stannix turns to Emissary Fellhorn, bending unnaturally his synthetic arm and extracting a wand from it.
"Just let me give it a try..." He waves the wand in front of Emissary, and you see his eyes going faintly golden for a moment, then returning normal.

"Nope..." He says, while putting the wand back into his arm. "To use this thing you need to be able to focus on positive feelings, else the subplanar joints between the shoulder and the artificial parts will easily weaken and the arm will fall apart. Now, that would be hilarious to see! But not very useful... no, no. Anyway..." He looks Emissary in the horns, and in the eyes, "I'll think at something useful to you... come to me next time you're 'round here and I may have some new idea!"

[LairdMaon]

"And shall work on positive thoughts in the meantime!

If one didn't know Emissary Fellhorn better, one might decide that he looks slightly put out as he walks out of the room muttering about his ideas of positive thinking, "The fresh corpses of the foes of this realm, strewn across the battlefield... The remains of their pawns scattered across the countryside, their last breaths sacrificed for the greater good..."

[Ellowryn]

It took a moment for Crasher's attention to turn, so intent on the listening to the discussion he almost missed it. Then with a start he turned, Holy fury burning in his eyes as he as the focused on the abominations to all that is good a right in the world. His Battlefist clenched it began to glow the same pure golden light issuing from his eyes as he made a start to head in the grotesque mockeries of life's direction before he stopped. His fist opening and closing it quickly dimmed as he let reason hold his righteous hatred in check.

I see, he said with great difficulty, these are your 'possessions'. It seems you are already heading down the path to becoming an enemy of this world, for your sake i would suggest that you make these the last. He strides forward very mechanically, until he is standing nearly on top of the halfling, And allowing these... Things... destruction during the upcoming mission would also be in order, and i will gladly help with that.

[Malimar]

Knife is slightly reluctant to pull himself away from the fascinating conversation with Stannix, but when he notices Crasher threatening his buddy Riyas, he has to peel himself away from questioning the cyborg and point out, "Every hit a skeleton takes is one the rest of us don't. I don't know about you, but some of my alterations cause me to feel pain when they are damaged, so I'm quite happy to have skeletons taking hits for me. Especially because skeletons don't have blood and I don't think they even feel pain, so it maximizes total utility for us and for the people with blood to spill." He punctuates this last with a sage nod, as if maximizing utility is the only possible sensible mode of thought on the matter.

[supernerd]

Riyas looked the warforged directly in his eyes, feeling almost too polite as he let him finish his pontificating. About to speak, Knife cut in, but he was more than willing to let the more open warforged speak. During this time, Haebor had taken to a fighting stance in the air, but the halfling held a hand to him. "You think I am some enemy of this world? You think I wish nothing but to pervert the earth on which we stand? We use what we have to do what we can. When you can claim that your mother nearly killed you on accident after falling from a tree because your soul draws energy from more than one plane, then you can talk to me about the righteousness of my path. You see endless death and do the thing you're best at, that anywhere but your homeland insists is no better than demons, that you are no better than a demon, so that you can save the lives of those that would be thrown against the enemy's blades, then you can claim to be above me. I would think you would be able to empathize with someone whose life is only partially acknowledged. We cannot ask the Keeper of the Silver Flame to exhaust the world's supply of diamonds ten times over to bring back every soldier from the war, and if the Silver Flame truly had its way, half the world would burn. I throw bones at problems where others would throw lives. One is a much more precious resource than the other."

The halfling walked back to Stannix, saying over his shoulder, 'You touch them, and I'll see you in court." He then looked to Stannix, "I was waiting for the chance to have you and Knife meet, It always intrigued me to see what would come of it. Glad to see it went well. And you have a customer to boot! Well, I suppose we should be off soon."

[CozJa]

Stannix watches with interest as the two warforged and the halfling bicker about the use of skeletal bears.
"You know what? You're gonna be the best team ever! You still have to go into your mission and seem so ready to fight! Ok... probably with the wrong targets, but I appreciate your efforts! So, take your DFACS, and go to the teleport room! As much as you are fun, I have work to do!"

He politely salutes Riyas while they are getting out: "It was interesting to meet him, you're right... and remember that Laers is going to watch out for what you're doing: pay attention and don't do anything stupid... and don't let them do anything stupid!"


One of you add the Dragonshard Fueled Advanced Communication System to your equipment


As you exit the room, Lodai d'Orien is waiting for you and brings you back to the teleportation chamber. You step again into the circle, and the dragonmark of passage bearer starts activating it again.
As before, the green lighted circle surrounds you, but you can notice that even the floor and the ceiling are illuminated, and take the form of a distant tunnel with shadows in the end, as you move (and the shadow stays always at the same distance) you feel a brief vertigo when your feet seem to stand upon nothingness, then you feel again solid ground, and the scent of misty grass.

As you look around yourselves, you discover that you are on a country lane; around you the grassy planes are punctuated by little woods, all the place is moist, with a thin fog seemingly rising from the terrain; in front of you, at some distance, you can see village circled by an unfinished palisade. Where the lane enters the village, you notice two peasants wearing tattered and disproportioned 'armors' and wielding pitchforks as they were real weapons, giving away a sense of ridiculousness more than menace. With them, a stocky man with a sword on his flank is reading some papers.

[LairdMaon]

Emissary Fellhorn stretches his gigantic arms wide and takes a deep breath of the local breeze "That's a beautiful mist! Will enjoy this job...". He makes sure to cast his gaze across the plains "Rolling plains, good. Defenses being built. Soldiers... Wait...".

Giggle.

Giggle.

"BAAAH HA HA HA hahaha!" Fellhorn breaks out into near-lunatic laughter. He hoots. He howls.

To be honest, it's a Public Relations nightmare.

After several minutes of this, he very visibly puts herculean effort to calming himself down. He walks to the poorly canned meat that happens to be standing guard, "Is this really your best defense? Pitchforks, well, okay. But armor that will harm you more than help you?".

[Ellowryn]

Crasher surveys his surroundings while Fellhorn nearly kills himself with laughter. True such makeshift defenses were unexpected, but why they were being built was of more importance.

He walks up and puts his hand on the 'Goliath?', helping him to steady himself. Now now, not everyone has access to proper gear or training. And everyone has a right to defend themselves, so it is not very polite to laugh at them. Turning to the stocky man, Excuse me, but might i inquire what it is this defensive structure is being built for? I have not heard of any threat in the area requiring such an elaborate response, as he gestures to the completed parts.

[Malimar]

For the record (not that I expect an ambush now, but for future reference): see the unseen grants see invisibility and darkvision 60; antennae graft grants 60' tremorsense (which is perhaps why he spends time on the ground while not in combat even though fell flight is active).

Knife quirks an antenna at Emissary Fellhorn's response to the mildly preposterous defenders. "Hm." He's seen his fair share of pitchfork-wielding villagers in his time, and though they're usually not very effective and thus not much of a menace, even when paired with torches, he still considers them an annoyance rather than a joke.

Only when Crasher asks why the structure is being built does Knife notice that it is, in fact, incomplete. "Hm."

[Chambers]

Tars

"I'm sure that's the last time we'll have that particular argument..." Tars says sarcastically under his breath. "This is different though." He raises an eye at the outburst from the ...goliath? minotaur? Big guy. Following along behind the Big Guy he nods at the guardsmen and hooks his thumbs into his belt, trying to appear non-threatening. "Pleasant day we're having." He says as if a group of armed strangers suddenly appearing next to poorly constructed defenses was not something to be worried about at all. "Seen any...er, wild spellslingers about?"

[supernerd]

Riyas shook his head as he looked at their welcome. "Well, look at that. It seems that we're rather conspicuous. I would have thought this group would have been more subtle." He chuckled softly. "Well, we should say hello. Maybe not move to the front gate, but at least close some distance and wave." He switched to Infernal, speaking to the bears. "Follow, but no attacking."

He began casually strolling towards the unfinished palisade, stopping when he was in earshot, holding up a hand to his bears and any who'd followed. He cupped one hand around his mouth and the other waved high in the air. "HELLO! HOW ARE YOU TODAY? MIND IF WE TALK?"

[CozJa]

As you approach the palisade, the two guards, alerted by Fellhorn noisy laugh, try to react as best as they can: one of them turns quickly and, seeing your group advance, loses grip of his pitchfork, that falls down, while the other one shout at you a ‘stop right there!’ with an unconvincingly menacing tone.
The third one passes his left hand on his face and then walks towards you as fast as his short legs permits him; you meet near the entrance of the wooden palisade; the only one that is intended to be an entrance, at least. He looks at you with a perplexed face, look at Riyas and his two monsters at distance, then looks at you again, hearing your salutations; looks at his papers, breathes heavily and speaks.

“Well… you are supposed to be the reinforcements from the crown? And, no, master dwarf, evil spellslingers are the last thing we see here, even if one would be useful now.”

When Crasher inquiries him about the palisade, the man widen his eyes, realizing that you know nothing about what he thinks you should know.

“Ah, so you are not reinforcements! You are here to… to… well… to what? Anyway, we’re having troubles with many disappearances during the last weeks, and decided to set up some defense; three days ago we’ve been attacked by strange creatures from the mist and...”
He stops again, and looks at the halfling, gesturing him to come nearer: “I hope you have the right documents for those two things you are bringing with you! I’d like to take a look.”

“By the way,” he says turning to Tars and Crasher, that for the man look like the less insane ones in the group “my name is Curlot Toppe, and I’m the bailiff of this town.”

[LairdMaon]

"Disappearances, strange creatures from the mist... Would be most interested to hear all about that. Could be a good warm up for the big job, eh?"

[supernerd]

Riyas holds his hand in front of his mouth to cover his grin and a soft laugh. He then returns to more professional behavior, digging among his things. "I'm afraid we've not been sent by the Brellish crown. Though I see no reason why we can't help some. Ah here we are." The halfling produces his papers for the two. "Bit of a military man, myself, so I never leave home without my permits. I've grown accustomed to an escort, and I would rather engage with the Treaty's compromises than toss away hard work."

The halfling's feelings were far from hurt, in fact, he was rather elated that the man had asked rather than simply called for their, or his, destruction. The smile showed. "Nice to meet you, Bailiff Toppe. I am Riyas d'Jorasco." He looked over at the palisade. "What I wouldn't give to know Fabricate or one of the Wall spells to move this along. Wait, hold on a second. Knife, have you reached the Fifth circle of spells yet? I did about a year ago, but only in my talents that produce these things." The halfling points his thumb back at his bears. "It's your talents of course, but if anyone needs a spare Wall of Stone, it's these men."

He continues to hold the permits where the bailiff can read them. "If not for my name, I'd do it for free, but I'm more than willing to offer heavy discounts on any injuries that need healed due to that unfortunate Mist. You'll have to ask my friend here about his pricing."

[Malimar]

"Sometimes, but not always, do I believe in coincidences. Perhaps the creatures from the mist are related to our task."

Knife stands straight with surprise when he realizes, with Riyas's prompting, that his powers could be useful to the townspeople. Being useful to the townspeople is, of course, a moderately effective way to prevent getting run out of town by a mob with pitchforks and torches. "I have!" Without further prompting, with a gesture and an incantation, Knife casts a wall of stone, extending the unfinished palisade with a wall of rock 2 inches thick, 5' high, and 50' long. Then he nods with satisfaction at his handiwork.

[supernerd]

Riyas chuckled as the modified warforged sprung into action. "Well, I'd have asked what they needed, but it doesn't look like they're making too much progress or had any masons around. I hope you don't mind a makeshift addition to your defenses. Something is just often better than nothing."

[Ellowryn]

Well met, Bailiff, I am Crasher and these are my current companions. He gestures at the others, And as to what we are here for, those disappearances are part of it. Although, this mist seems like trouble and if possible we would like to help deal with it

We are also looking for a man who may be in the area, or has recently departed. He gives him a brief physical description of the wanted man, Do you perhaps remember seeing him?

[CozJa]

As a wall of stone rises immediately dislodging a pair of ill planted wooden posts, you can hear a commotion into the village, with some people crying to their gods, a distinctly female voice shouting ‘Olladra has forsaken us!’ , some older men shouting to calm down, somebody cursing a Dragon Below and a lot of indistinguishable words.

The older guard, bewildered, observes the scene behind him, while the younger guard loses grip of his pitchfork again.
Curlot Toppe turns around, looking at the wall, and looks at Knife with a puzzled expression. “Well… thanks… I guess… I suppose that frightened people is better than dead people. Jovi! Pick up the pitchfork and go calm down the townsfolk!” Immediately, the youngest guard picks his 'weapon' and reenters the now completely enclosed village.

"Well, sir Crasher, I remember that man, he resided here for a while, but disappeared almost a month ago. I fear I can't help you any more than this, since with all the people we're missing... he is only one of many.

As for your offer, I think we can spare something," he says to Riyas "and our doctor surely needs some help, but We'll talk about it later. Now you all can follow me into the village, that we can discuss the matters in a more comfortable way; Oh and, please, would you leave your two skeletons outside, for now? my fellow citizens are already worried enough, and not all are used to see undeads roaming freely, laws or not."

[LairdMaon]

Emissary Fellhorn thinks about the size of the doors and rooms he's likely to find in this village...

"Will wait out here with the bone boys. Will keep an eye on the mist for anything problematic."

[supernerd]

Riyas nods. "Yes, later. Though if you're strapped for funds, the mason over there sets his own prices, and seems more than eager to help." He points his thumb back to Knife. "And I perfectly understand. I certainly don't hope to make use of them aroud civilians."

The halfling turns to Emissary and his bears, pointing at the Minotaur man. "Attack what he does. And try not to throw the first punch when you can."

btw, Haebor is currently a Raven.

Also, I mean that's fair. They've probably never heard of 5th level spells.

[Ellowryn]

Crasher turns over the Bailiffs words in his mind.

So he was taken or has joined those taking people. It seems staying here to help is the best way to further our mission, unless any of you have any better ideas? He turns to the others.

[LairdMaon]

"Staying to help might make the people like us know and jog their memories of our main target."

Fellhorn paces the length of the walls, "Hey! How would you like trenches in front of your walls? Can take care of that for you pretty fast!"

[CozJa]

The man shrugs and looks at the palisade "We came here to forget about the war, not to live it again! Anyway, I thank you, and your eagerness to help is really appreciated, but I don't want to build a full fortification, nor do I think that trenches would be of much use against the... things that attacked us."

[Chambers]

Tars

"Strange things come out of the mist often, then?" Tars asks as he follows the bailiff into town. "If trenches and such won't help, I take it these things can fly or pass right through them? What do they do when they're here, anyway? Can't imagine there's much to steal..."

[CozJa]

As you follow the man into Blowfall, you can look around, observing the people: there are many old men women, and a lot of people with visibly deep scars or impairments, demonstrating their past participation in the Last War. Some kids are playing around with wooden weapons and toys, while housewives bring their clothes back and forth to a cleansing stone near the fountain in the center of the square… or the field of dirt that this people probably consider a square. Looking around, you fail to see young men, or women, it seems like the population missed a couple of generations, being divided mostly between people with more than 50 years, and other with less then 20…

The Bailiff brings you into one of the largest structures, a warehouse with the unimaginative name of “Storewall” and invites you inside; there, you find a woman that is presented as miss Toppe, sitting behind the counter, cradling an infant, that clearly cannot be her son, considering the couple’s age.

Curlot answers to Tars question, trying to explain the situation as best as he can: “You are right master dwarf, We never, ever had a problem with Mournland monsters. Suddenly, it looks like we have become a honey nest for all the twisted mutating equivalents of bees. We have seen bizarre creatures and misty clouds, but the strange thing is that they entered the village, fluctuated and walked around the houses, killed whatever animal or people got too near, then… they left! It’s almost li...” as he’s speaking, you hear the rumors of a great commotion from outside, and shouts of alarm.



Emissary Fellhorn

while Emissary Fellhorn waits for something interesting to do with the only company of the old guardsman and two undead bears, he hears a strange rumor coming from the distant mist on the eastern side of the wall.
As he controls what is happening, he distinguish a distant, strange, figure, coming out from the mist.
What it may be? At first glance, it looks like it is a strange Harpy with her wings cut out, then the half-minotaur notices that she may probably be a night hag with a fleshy make-up, or probably not, she must be a Dryad from some strange pink forest, or not? Only when she is about 100 ft. from him, and the horned warrior notices that there are strange humming rumors coming from behind the figure, he sees what she really is: one of those… pointy elves!

As the guard shout to the woman, telling her to run faster, then call for an alarm, Emissary perceives the rumors of a lot of footsteps, and probably... even pawsteps? All are coming from the village.

The humming noise becomes stronger as the elven woman approaches, and that shifts Emissary attention on the fact that she is not coming out from the mist, but the mist is actually following her. A strange black-grey cloud with a protrusive tentacle is slowly fluttering behind the woman, that is at least able to keep her distance, but looks really tired. As the misty creature approaches, even the wind seem to change direction, and a disgusting stench of decay reach the sensible minotauric nostrils. Seeing his towering figure, the woman hesitates for a brief moment, then decides that he may be a menace, but no worse than what’s behind her, and takes a last sprint for the village, as the tentacled creature comes nearer.

[LairdMaon]

As the mist approaches Emissary Fellhorn very calmly instructs the guards, "Secure your people. Now. There is no room for arguement."

"Undead, move to flank. Now." His voice grows stronger and louder with each word, "For now. We. Go! TO BAAAAATTLLLE!"

With a bellowed whoop, Fellhorn charges at the tentacle, every step a small earthquake. Anyone watching will note that an object forms in his hands. A large object. Large even for a creature of Fellhorn's stature.

He lifts his truly massive hammer and drops it head on the tentacle...


Charge Attack
To Hit [roll0]
To Hurt [roll1]
AC 16

[Ellowryn]

Crasher rushes forward, placing himself between the fleeing elf and the strange mystborn thing. Guardsmen, he shouts, keep a look out for any more of these things. Alert us if you see anything but otherwise leave this fight to us! He then brings his arm up and letting a bolt free from the crossbow attached behind the gauntlet before turning his shield on his left arm three sizes larger.

Moving to 11Y and firing light crossbow at creature.
[roll0] (if a crit threat [roll1] to confirm)
Damage if a hit [roll2] (if a confirmed crit [roll3] extra damage)
Swift action activating variable on shield to turn into a tower shield.

[supernerd]

"Boys, move in." Riyas called to his skeletons, moving towards the monster himself. One Skeleton moved into the side of the monster closest to the palisade, while the other moved around Emissary Fellhorn to the opposing side. As the Skeleons moved into position, Riyas began a slow dirge in Draconic, magically infused with confidence in battle for the living and undead, and the sound seemed to crawl in from out of nowhere. The Skeleton by the palisade then reached to rake the monster with a foreclaw.

Riyas moves forward to T8 and uses Inspire Courage using Subsonics. He then uses up this round's swift action as an immediate action, using his Badge of Valor to bump the inspire courage to +5 Attack/Damage, and saves against fear.
Knowledge Arcana[roll0]
B2 moves to AM17:AO19, stepping around the creature's reach.
B1 moves to AE9:AG11, flanking with B1 and attacking.
To hit: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

[Malimar]

Knife follows everyone inside the palisade, becoming distracted by a couple of goldfinches, and then into the warehouse when prompted, where he gets distracted by the infant. The scientific study of fresh, new organic meatbags has the potential for great learning. His study would of course leave the small human creature unharmed, to allow it to grow into the destiny of its blood, but he realizes just before he asks if he can borrow the child that such a request would probably be taken as alarming, so he remains silent, only watching the infant and twitching his antennae occasionally.


Then Fork the weasel chitters and tugs on his antenna, eventually drawing his attention to the commotion outside. He points out to the others, "Something is happening." And then he notices the others have already rushed outside to investigate the something, so he shrugs and follows them.

He listens (and/or tremorsenses) for the direction of the commotion, then flies up to land on the top of the palisade and observe for a moment!

Initial positioning: fly up to 7-AC, on top of the palisade, rather than going around. (Should be doable from 1-Z with 40' fly speed.)

I'll wait at least for the enemies to go before posting combat action; if they move, it might change what Knife can do. Unless that's bad, in which case I can do an action sooner rather than later.

[CozJa]

As Emissary Fellhorn discharges his powerful attack, the tentacle vibrates and dissolves into nothingness while a shockwave from the mystic hammer momentarily disrupts the formless cloud before him.
At the same time, Riyas bulky skeletons move in a flanking position as ordered by their master, and one of them is able to land another powerful blow on the creature.

Crasher bolt darts quickly toward the strange monster, but it fails to hit it only by a minuscule margin, swiftly touching the edges of the cloud; as it happens, another tentacle forms from the creature and tries to strike at Emissary Fellhorn, hitting him on his left side. The pain is minimal, but the minotauric creature feels a strange darkness trying to feed on his life-force; at first, Emissary feels a sensation of despair, as if all the world was to shatter into pieces, and nothing was left for him... to eat! But then, by the sheer power of his will, he realizes the impossibility of such a thing, and shrugs off the sensation with ease.

The elven woman who was escaping take off her bow and call the attention of the group to where she came for. "There are others coming!" As you look in the direction pointed by her, you notice other two clouds, similar but not identical to the one you are fighting, that are slowly approaching.


Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Nasty Things: if hit by attack: Will Save DC 21; Fort Save DC 21

[LairdMaon]

Emissary Fellhorn recoils from the new tentacle and looks at the mist. With a gutteral howl at the thought that something inside tried to play with his mind, he steps into the mist and swings his hammer with his full strength.


Str 40
Con 31


Full Attack:

To Hit [roll0]
To Hurt [roll1]

To Hit [roll2]
To Hurt [roll3]

AC 16
Rage countdown: 13/13

Edit: Forgot the Mountain Rage feature.
Str 42
Damage should be a point higher on both swings.

[Chambers]

Tars

"Those are certainly...things....that could exist." Tars says and squints his eyes at the monster. "I mean, there's lot of other nasty, horrible things that exist. Why not these two?" He asks as he walks up the pallisade wall and weaves his way along the top. "So uh, what do you think they are?" He asks Knife while he readies his axe.

Swift action: Change stance to Dance of the Spider.
Double move to 7AB. Dance of the Spider Stance gives him a 20ft climb speed.

Maneuvers Readied: Steel Wind, Emerald Razor, Moment of Perfect Mind, Cloak of Deception.

[CozJa]

As Emissary Fellhorn attacks the creature, he sees that at the first blow the cloud starts dissipating, as if the arcane energies keeping it tied together are waning; pressing the attack, he land a decisive strike: the hammer discharges a greenish light that engulf the creature, and in a matter of seconds the cloud dissipates into nothingness, leaving only a faint mist where it was.

[Malimar]

Knife ponders the mist-tentacle-monsters for a moment. "What peculiar creatures."

He watches Emissary Fellhorn destroy one of the creatures, and decides to save his big spells for the moment, instead wandering a bit east along the palisade and then preparing to discharge some small fell energies if another of the things gets too close to his allies.

Knowledge to identify the Things: [roll0] +8 if Arcana, +4 if anything else

Move: 25' east, to AH7.

Standard: Ready Action: if one of the monsters comes within 60' (maximum range of EB), use Eldritch Blast on it.
ranged touch attack (+7 BAB, +5 Inspire Courage): [roll1]
damage: [roll2]

[supernerd]

Riyas tipped his glasses and took a good look at the creatures, and then his eyes went wide. He spoke to himself in Halfling, preserving the melody, "I- No one can cast that spell anymore..." The halfling pointed at the Living Blasphemy, and ordered his skeletons forwards. "Rend it apart. Don't let it touch the others!" The short man's song continued as he began sprinting after the bears, who charged the spell and ripped with their claws.

Riyas, having moved to T8 in the last round as aforementioned, will be continuing his song, and running to AE19

Bears will both be charging the Blasphemy, I'm not sure which one that is. But I for sure don't want that dazing Fellhorn.
Attack [roll0]
Damage [roll1]
Attack [roll2]
Damage [roll3]

[Chambers]

Tars

"Right. Time to disappear then." Tars says to Knife as he follows along the top of the wooden palisade. When he reaches the stone wall Tars walks down the face of it and crouches on the face of it as he fades from view, his body taking on the color of the stone.

Double move to 8AJ. He'll then Hide in Plain Sight in that square.
Hide [roll0] [This modifier should have been a +30, not +13. Actual result is 46]
Move Silently [roll1]

[CozJa]

As the two monstrous clouds advance, the elf woman position herself behind Emissary, preparing her bow and waiting to have a clear shot on one of the monsters, and is briefly distracted when she notice a fast dwarf zapping behind her and apparently disappearing into nothingness!

Knife, seeing another tentacled cloud approaching the half-minotaur, unleash a powerful blast of arcane energy, that fails to reach the floating shape, dispersing itself in the mist.
Crasher, instead, is now able to take a better aim and hits the monster right onto the tentacle, with dark smoke pouring out of the 'injury'.

the terrible spell cloud that is approaching from the south is blocked by one of Riyas skeletons, and exchanges blows with the undead creature, seeming distracted by it and disinterested in other, easier targets, while the brave halfling's voice still bolsters the spirits of all his companions.


Crasher Light Crossbow hit on the Shroud of Death and Despair:
to hit [roll0] damage: [roll1]

Living Blasphemy attack on Bear 2:
to hit [roll2] damage: [roll3]

[LairdMaon]

His mouth open with a wordless bray of fury pouring out, Emissary Fellhorn covers five feet of space in one step. The greathammer formed from the essence of his mind, itself covers a great distance as he swings it from over his shoulder and across his body before bringing it right back again.


Full Attack:

To Hit [roll0]
To Hurt [roll1]

To Hit [roll2]
To Hurt [roll3]

AC 16
Rage countdown: 12/13

[supernerd]

Riyas pointed with one hand to the Blasphemy. "Both of you!" and with the other, he wove the words for a spell into his song. Nothing big, since Living spells resisted new ones that would be added, but more effective than pulling out a mundane bow and arrows. A ray crackled from his fingertip, firing off in the direction of the spell Fellhorn was fighting. Riyas moved around to make sure Fellhorn was between him and the spell.

Riyas will be casting Ray of Enfeeblement on the Death and Despair, then moving up to AE15.
Spell Resistance CL Check: [roll0] vs 10+CL of Living Spell
Str Penalty: [roll1]

B1 charges to AE25:AG27
To hit: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

B2 Takes the 8 damage in full, but is Evil and has 20HD, and will then Full attack the Blasphemy
Claw: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

Claw: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]

Bite: [roll8]
Damage: [roll9]

[Malimar]

Knife has only the vaguest understanding of what these things are. Cloud spell things! ...Spell things? Spell things!

He doesn't know enough about the creatures to know that his next idea is unlikely to dispel them (if I recall the deal about Living Spells correctly, which I may not, it's been a long time since I looked at them). He definitely doesn't know enough about the creatures to know that it might work to dispel any spells controlling them, because he doesn't know that they don't usually appear in groups and are therefore probably being controlled. The things Knife doesn't know about these creatures could fill a fairly large bucket!

So he tries a different invocation on the further foe, gesturing and glowering at it intently!

Standard: Voracious Dispelling: As dispel magic, and any creature with an active effect dispelled by this invocation takes 1 damage per spell level (no save). Targeting the further living spell so as to not risk dispelling what Riyas is trying to do to the nearer one. In the (probably unlikely) event that there is in fact something dispellable on or about the creatures, dispel check: [roll0]

[Chambers]

Tars

"Of course, they never want to come to me." Tars says with a sigh as he steps away from the wall, waraxe in hand. Hustling towards the cloud...thingy...he keeps a wary eye on it as he approaches.

Swift: Change stance to Pearl of Black Doubt (+2 AC per missed attack)
Double move to 16/AM. He will Tumble the last 5ft when he's within 10ft of the creature.

Tumble [roll0]

Maneuvers Readied: Steel Wind, Emerald Razor, Moment of Perfect Mind, Cloak of Deception.
Maneuvers Expended: None
Stance Active: Pearl of Black Doubt

End of Turn Position: 16/AM.
AC: 21 (25 this round from Improved Skirmish)
HP: 85/85

[CozJa]

As Riyas discharge his magical powers against the living spell, Crasher, Emissary and the elven ranger take the opportunity to strike at the creature, weakening it; as the woman hit it with an arrow and the powerful half-minotaur clumsily rotate his magical hammer smashing it on the creature's shifting form, the warforged launches himself against it, forcing it to reshape a part of is form due to the power of his charge!
The Shroud, evidently incapable to discriminate between many opponents, keeps on hitting Emissary, without obtaining much success, as is unable to even scratch it.

The living blasphemy still fights against the two skeletal bears, and seems unable to do any real damage when, unexpectedly, Knife launches against it a powerful blast of magical energy, with the goal to discharge arcane powers. The voracious dispelling resonates within the living spell form, emanating a humming noise and a strange vibration that shakes everything around it. As the spell itself seems on the verge of exploding, the arcane power fizzles and pops into nothing. Knife's attack failed, but obtained a result: the living blasphemy and the other living spell emits the same vibration, and both seem to have noticed the presence of Knife on the palisade, as the Living Blasphemy starts moving toward him.


So, both monsters attacked and missed, therefore nothing interesting happened to you :smallwink:

Turn 2 is over.
Starts turn 3

[Chambers]

Tars

"This is just weird." Tars says before feinting right and then disappearing from sight. He quickly moves down and around the thing and takes a massive windup with his waraxe before slamming it into the monster, reappearing moments later.

Swift action: Cloak of Deception. Tars is invisible as per greater invisibility until the end of his turn.
Move action: move to 20/AK.
Standard action: Emerald Razor maneuver. He makes a single melee attack with his weapon as a touch attack. He will also Power Attack for full. If the living spell does not perceive him (Blindsight, etc), it is flat-footed against this attack.

Attack vs flat-footed, touch AC [roll0]
Damage [roll1]
Skirmish Damage [roll2]
Sneak Attack [roll3]

If the living spell is not immune to precision damage, then it must make a Fortitude save (DC equals total damage dealt: 62) or be Staggered for 1 round.

Maneuvers Readied: Steel Wind, Emerald Razor, Moment of Perfect Mind, Cloak of Deception.
Maneuvers Expended: Cloak of Deception, Emerald Razor
Stance Active: Pearl of Black Doubt

End of Turn Position: 20/AK.
AC: 21 (25 this round from Improved Skirmish)
HP: 85/85

[LairdMaon]

The world has no color.
Existence is greyscale.

There are exceptions to this rule.
Fellhorn's allies tinted in a pastel palette.
His greathammer is a royal violet.

These spell clouds BLAZE IN RED!



Full Attack:

Greathammer
To Hit [roll0]
To Hurt [roll1]

Greathammer
To Hit [roll2]
To Hurt [roll3]

Gore
To Hit [roll4]
To Hurt [roll5]

AC 16
Rage countdown: 11/13

[Malimar]

Knife has attracted the attention of the cloud of doom! "Wuh-oh." He ponders for a moment, then... floats south, to meet the ooze head-on! Sort of. Not really, just to get within range to hit it with... another spell! He concentrates for a moment, then discharges a beam of terrible black energy towards the closer living spell!

Move: Fly diagonally 2 squares east, 6 squares south, and 10' up (should end up about 20' off the ground and 20' north of the monster -- according to Pythagoras, should be just within 30' range while moving less than 40', if my math is at all close to correct.

Standard: Expend two uses of Rebuke/Command Undead to power Divine Metamagic (Reach Spell), turning bestow curse from Touch to 30' Ranged Touch.
Tohit Touch AC (+7 BAB, +1 Point Blank Shot): [roll0] + +5 Inspire Courage (which I forgot about) = [20]
If hit, the living spell needs to make a DC16 Will save or take a permanent -6 penalty to Constitution (minimum 1).

[supernerd]

Riyas called out to his skeletons with his song. "One if you, between that thing and Crasher, the other, rip it apart." One skeleton stepped forward, lashing out at the mass of spell Energy, while the other walked around with little regard to its own safety so that it stood between the living spell and the living construct.

Riyas: not seeing anything particularly useful, so Total Defense?

Bear 1 will move around to AG18:AI20
Bear 2 will step up an full attack.
Claw [roll0]
Damage [roll1]
Claw [roll2]
Damage [roll3]
Bite [roll4]
Damage [roll5]

[CozJa]

As Emissary Fellhorn strikes again with renewed ferocity at the monster, the Hammer discharges again its psychic energy; the living spell, already weakened by Riyas spell, whitstands with difficulty the horned warrior's first blow, but at the second, it explodes into a whirlwing stream of black energy, dissipating almost instantly.

The Living Blasphemy, still looking for Knife, is distracted by the warforged change of position, being unable to reach him. Before it can act, one of the skeletal bears attacks it with all its might. The living spell releases a flicker of yellow energy and then collapses on itself, disappearing from existence.

As you stand your ground, you see no trace of other creatures. The elven woman looks around herself, puts away her bow and offers to shake hands with Emissary: "I have no idea who... or what... you are, but thank you!"

Behind you, Curlot and a group of ill-armed citizens are looking at the scene with disbelief. The Bailiff, that for the first time since you met him looks relieved, approaches yor group:

"You do are our rinforcements after all! I cannot believe it! One of those things was enough to send all of our village into panic, and you destroyed three of them! That's amazing!"

[LairdMaon]

With a wipe of his furred arm across his face to clean off the flames spittle, the amalgamation of minotaur, stone and goliath turns to face the lives he and his compatriots saved from certain death.

He sweeps an arm out to indicate the team of saviors at hand, "This is the might of the Dragonmarked Elite! These foul clouds of death were never within our orders, yet we have slain them of our own kindness! Our compassion! Now it is YOUR turnto show the same! A man is sought! A criminal! He is guilty of war crimes including the wanton DESTRUCTION of a marketplace! His name is Maelis Satero former Knight Arcane of Aundair! Find it in your hearts to tell us all you know of this man, as we did find it in our hearts to slay this predation on your people!"

[Chambers]

Tars

"All part of the job, ma'am." Tars says to the elf with a short bow. "Tars d'Kundarak, at your service. So, uh...why were they chasing you? Professional curiosity."

[CozJa]

As the imposing minotauric figure speaks with his loud voice, the fog lingers in the air, as all the present fall silent and... start looking around without knowing exactly what to say.

Curlot, with his mouth half-opened, tries to tell something, but words seem so lost in this moment than everything else would be easier to find.

The elven woman looks at Emissary with a puzzled (and worried) expression, and mutters some word: "Well... said? Ehm... I..." as Tars approaches her and bows, the elf immediately sprints toward him, as to find some kind of protection from the imposing horned creature.
"Ehm, well, thanks! The name's Elore, by the way, I was scouting the place after the attacks we endured, but those creatures started following me. I don't even know how they detected my presence"

[LairdMaon]

Emissary Fellhorn sees the confusion on the faces of the townsfolk and sighs.

To Tars he says, "Learn what you can.
Make friends and stuff. Am going to hunt the source of those clouds."

To Elore, the elf, he asks, "Where did they begin following you? Will talk them to wherever they came from and end them in full."

[Malimar]

Knife descends back down to the ground to inspect any gooey remnants of the spell-oozes that might remain. He busies himself taking samples of the creatures in vials, for later experimentation. As he works, he reiterates (to everybody and nobody in particular) "For now, a working hypothesis: these creatures related to Maelis Satero in some way? Two unusual happenings in one spatio-temporal vicinity -- coincidence? Perhaps not." He shrugs slightly, not entirely sure. "Perhaps Emissary Fellhorn has the right idea, find the source. Even if unrelated to central task, eliminating doom-goo would still enable the townsfolk to better fulfil the destinies of their blood, if any."

[CozJa]

Elore tries to explain the situation to tars and Fellhorn as best as she can.
Mapping the Mournlands is difficult, but if you give me some time I can prepare a little chart. I was interested in finding the source of those strange creatures, but they leave almost no trail..."

the group notices that, nearer the palisade, Curlot is discussing with his other 'soliders'.

"You have to tell them!" says one of them, while another concurs: "They don't even know us, and they are ready to enter this hellish place!" The older one continues in this reasoning: "Really, Culrot, we struggled to survive against one of those creatures, and they destroyed three of them! We need their help!"

The Bailiff sighs heavily, then recognizes the rightfulness of his compatriots; he advances toward the adventurers.

"I have... more informations on your task. Since you helped us, It is only fair that I reciprocate."
He hesitates for a moment, looking undecided on how approach the argument:
"Master Knife, you are right in a way. Maelis Satero and the creatures may be related, as he is related to this place... the baby you seen before at my home, is my nephew... and Maelis son.

The wizard joined our community more than a year ago as a fugitive. We don't ask many questions here, a lot of us have seen... or done, terrible things during the war, we only wish to forget. And he helped us forget, he worked to make the village a better place, he even built the cleansing stone and contacted some merchants to help us in selling our crops.
He even married my daughter! All things were working fine; then the disappearances begun. He tried to investigate on them, but to no avail.

A fortnight ago my daughter... my only daughter... was taken away, and Maelis entered the Mournlands to search for her. We never heard anything more about him."

[LairdMaon]

"Fine, then. Make your charts. Will wait for your information here. You will stay here. Yes?"

[supernerd]

Riyas looks at his hands, speaking to Haebor, but with the imp Invisible, it was as if he spoke gibberish to himself. <I... that spell... I can probably name every person from the last years of the war who could have cast that spell... And have fingers left over...>

Coming back to his senses, the halfling looked to the elf. "Anything is better than nothing if you can put something together. But it does seem we're on a bit of a clock." He then approached the Bailiff. "We'll find them, if we're able. I'd like to leave one of my skeletons with those who guard this place. It will be instructed to attack whatever your men do. Or whichever of them you want me to point out. And don't worry, if there is something strong enough to turn them against you, then Khyber has already overrun this world."

Yay Eberron. Living Blasphemy is scary. Enough that Riyas is more than a little spooked. You know since even the most powerful character on Khorvaire can only cast 8th level spells. I can't think of anyone other than the Keeper of the Flame who can cast 9th level spells,
and even then she's only level 3 really

[CozJa]

Curlot gulps at Riyas mention of the monster turning against them; Crasher looks at Riyas and the Bailiff, then offers his help in protecting the village, even if you don't know for sure if it's more from the desire to help the villagers or to control the undead monster left behind.

As you consider the matter, Elore writes a crude map: she explains that she was able to scout that part of mournland for a day, before being attacked by the living spells. Entering the place, the forest basically disappears into the mist, living place to a grey and dull wasteland, full of dirty and sharp rocks. there are three different roads, that look like they weren't used for a lot of time. She explored one of them (the rightmost one) and it ended up in a cliff; the mosnters attacked her while she was looking at the leftmost one, so she has no extra information on it, or on the central one.

As you prepare, Curlot Toppe enters the back of his house, and comes back with a stack of potions: "Take this, you'll need it out there. I'd like to give you more, but that's all I have."


While it is true that there are not many casters capable of casting a blasphemy, there are other ways in which that spell can be around, like scroll productions, eldritch machines, ancient abominations... I'm not really doing a good work on easing things, eh? :smallbiggrin:

The Potions that Curlot gave you are divided in two different stacks of five each: one reads Cure Light Wounds and the other Cure Moderate Wounds. It should not be difficult for the group to understand what they do!

[LairdMaon]

"You were attacked on the left path?
Then that's where go."

Fellhorn looks at the others, "Anyone coming with?"

[Malimar]

Knife ponders this information, and nods sagely, his antennae twitching, finding it Very Interesting.

After surveying the potions, he suggests, "One of each potion for each of us. They're not likely to be as useful to we creatures of metal and wood, but we can use them on you delightful organic meatbags should you fall."

Then, one the potions are distributed, he follows Fellhorn!

[Chambers]

Tars

"I can't find fault with your logic there big guy." Tars says. "So I'll come along with you. Lady, just stay here with these fine townsfolk and we'll go sort out the misunderstanding between yourselves and these mists with murderous intent." He says to the elven lady and offers a short bow. "Never a dull moment with you, is there?" he says to Fellhorn.

[CozJa]

Elore smiles when Tars talks about a 'misunderstanding' "A violent case of misunderstanding, I'd suppose. But thank you, I'll stay there and help protect the city, even if I hope I won't be needed for this."

As you start following the trail, you can see the forest slowly disappearing into a immovable sea of mist. For every step each of you takes, the air becomes heavier, the sky darker, and the terrain looks more and more disconnected. It is still possible to recognize the traces of a road, or, at least, what once was a road, but the surrounding green of the foliage gives way to a dull grey mist covering everything. Here and there, sharp stones grow out of the terrain as if they were different kinds of plants, and here and there you can notice spatters of white and green colored goo.
After a while, it becomes difficult to understand if you departed for the village minutes or days ago, as every sense of passing time seems to have been lost into this place, as every other trace of living things. As difficult as it is to orient yourselves, the crude map from the elven ranger gives some help in reaching the place she signed.


The map gives a +2 bonus on the check, and you can choose to help each other or have the best character orient himself for everybody. Failing the check means you will need to study the map again for a couple of hours. Beating the check means you find the place Elore signed on the map. Beating it of more than 10 will give you some more extra info...

[CozJa]

Due to the wilderness lore of the dwarven scout and the minotauric creature, and Knife unexpected ability in reading maps, the group follows succesfully Elore's written indications, and is able to reach without problems the place described by the elf.

As expected, you can still recognize the ranger's footprints on the outer branches, while the central one seems untouched by a lot of time.
The leftmost road (if road is the proper term for a dirty passageway with just less sharp stones) follows a rising slope, and seems to turn east, for the little you can ascertain looking through the mist; the central one follows a regular plain, punctuated by a lot of glassy 'rocks' and petrified trees (or things that look like trees), while the rightmost one seems to lose itself into a windy canion.


As the oppressive atmosphere provoked by the mist tries to bring each of you down, you sniff the faint whispers of clean air around the place, trying to find some more clues on the most useful direction. moving from right to left, you feel the air becoming more and more heavy, and the mist itself seems to be composed of a innatural fog that brings forth traces of the stench of death. A distinct smell of burning ashes attracts your attention, it seems like it comes from the central road, and by looking at the ground, you notice some small spots of earth recently scorched by little drops of fire. It would not be easy to notice them, if it wasn't for your advanced sense of smell, and you are capable to understand that the traces have been left no more than twelve hours ago.



As you stand on the terrain, your antennae twitch slightly, permitting you to pick up some strange vibrations in the terrain. By focusing for a minute, you can distinguish two vibrations: one seems to come from the left road, and comes at regular intervals, looking like something, or someone, beating a huge object on the terrain; the second one is a faint humming noise, and is more difficult to understand from where it comes: it seems like it's lost in some place between the central and the right ways, but you cannot be sure of it.

[LairdMaon]

"Something passed here no all that long ago. Will follow the tracks. They might lead to the source of the fire smell."

[Malimar]

As they come to the fork, Knife's mothlike antennae twitch, and he points, "Things nearby. To the left: Something... very large, perhaps the footsteps of a mighty beast? A big thing beating on the ground, anyway. Between right and central paths, something... a humming. We may encounter Things whichever path we take." He doesn't opine which direction they should go -- that's Fellhorn's expertise, to which he defers. Just issuing a warning about what they might expect in each direction.

[CozJa]

As you advance through the central road, the smell of charred earth becomes stronger, and it is possible to see many more traces of burned soil and parts of the dead vegetation still burning quitely in the mist. Strangely, even the fire looks dead in this place, where everything is grey and the air gets more and more heavy as you advance.


The beating continues regularly, but is somewhat dampened as you advance, while the humming noise continues; you could not say it becomes strong along the road, but it is more... persistent as if something wanted to take residence into your brain.


After almost an hour (or three? keeping track of time is not easy when there is no sun, or wind, or everything else) the group can see in the distance the source of all this fire: another Living spell, this time it looks as a moving fireball, is rolling on itself over a widening in the road.

[LairdMaon]

Emissary Fellhorn studies the roiling ball of flames for a moment. "Flank if you can," he says, "am going to make it mad."

He races forward at the Fireball, screaming and brandishing his hammer.


I do believe Running is movement x2. So I'll cover 120' of ground while making myself a big juicy target.

[Malimar]

Having come upon the Thing, Knife departs from the ground, and scoots upwards into the air, following Emissary Fellhorn at a slightly slower pace, high enough off the ground that the fireball should have difficulty reaching him. He ponders options. He could... sort of flank the fireball, by conjuring a swarm of bugs or something on it, but he doubts that would be very effective against the foe and would risk being effective against an ally.

And then there's the suspicious humming! Which he stops being able to detect as he takes flight, but is still deeply suspicious indeed.

Flying (perhaps using the Run action), stopping 60' away from the Living Fireball (or however close he can get in one round of 40' fly speed movement, but not any closer than 60' away from it, and also too high up in the air for it to reach from the ground).

[supernerd]

Riyas Grabs hold of his bear's ribcage and with a whistle, the beast sets off in the direction of Fellhorn and the fireball. It follows with all the speed it can muster, and as they near confrontation, he begins another eerie tune, carrying far further than it has any right to. When they get within charging distance, Riyas will be dropping off to the ground.

Skellie has 40ft move, so I'm at 160ft/round on a Run. I'm going to be using inspiration before combat starts and hopping off the bear at about the same range as Knife.

[CozJa]

As you approach the living spell and start charging it, the fireball seems to 'perceive' your arrival, and withdraws from you, flying as fast as possible, and advancing further down the enlarged road. As it rolls, it leaves a trail of embers that quickly estinguish when touching the terrain, leaving the trail of charred earth you noticed before.


This living spell has a base speed of 70ft, therefore if it runs it can keep you away indefinitely, unless you find a way to stop it. Oh, and Laird, Run speed (http://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/SRD:Run_(Feat)) is 4x base speed, not 2x :smallwink:

[LairdMaon]

Fellhorn stops short at the sight of the fleeing Spell. "Even FIRE fears?"

He studies for a moment the way the charred trail is laid down by the Fireball. "Think can track this back to it's source."

At that, he begins looking for signs of it's passage back.


Oops on that run speed, heh!

Track [roll0]

[Malimar]

Knife scoots through the air after the living fireball, but it soon leaves him behind, and he pauses with the others to think. "Hm. Unusual. It flees. Or perhaps it is under command and leading us into a trap."

Knife returns to the ground, where his antennae can once again give him a sense of what's going on within 60', and follows Emissary Fellhorn. "Yes, follow it to its... home? source?"

[CozJa]

For a while, it looks like a chase: the living spell keeps flying at maximum speed, trying to keep its distance...
When you reach a place when the 'road' starts turning on the left across a rocky hill, the strange thing stop briefly, starts spinning madly on itself again, and blows off a bunch of little fireballs, not directed at you, but toward the other side of the road, where you cannot exactly see, because of the rocks and mist.

Anyway, You realize that the thing stopped, and it's vulnerable to your attacks.

As you touch again the soil, you perceive again the humming noise; following the flying spell, this time you can say for sure that the sound is becoming more and more powerful as you go on.

[LairdMaon]

"Heh heh heh, it is dead... Time to tell it so!"

Emissary Fellhorn rushes the soon-to-be-slain spell.


Charge Attack
To Hit [roll0]
To Hurt [roll1]
AC 16

[supernerd]

Riyas looks to his Skeleton, "You move in as well." As the bear closed in, Riyas concentrated on a spell, hopping off the bear and letting it loose, a mass of tentacles sprouting up from the ground by the Fireball, covering it's area such that the two melee combatants could attack without issue.

Rather than sing again, at least atm, Riyas will be casting Evard's Black Tentacles, emphasizing the other side. Yay Lawful Neutral making tactical sacrifices!

feel free to roll for the others, or use one roll for everything. Grapple: [roll0]

And then the Bear can move in if it's in range. to hit: [roll1], Damage [roll2]

[Malimar]

Knife grinds his metal jaws in thought as the creature stops to... fight something else? And there's definitely a Thing in the vicinity, being all sorts of potentially dangerous.

So Knife cautiously approaches within range of the living fireball and fires off a pewpew in its general direction, saving his real attacks for whatever the fireball is alarmed about.

Move: Move to within 60' of the living fireball

Standard: Eldritch Blast the living fireball
tohit touch AC: [roll0]
todam: [roll1] untyped damage

[CozJa]

The group combined attack is more than enough to utterly destroy the Living Fireball, that hasn't even got a chance to fight back: a black tentacle sprout from earth, grasping part of its oozelike form and stopping its spinning, while Fellhorn and the undead bear come rushing on it with all their might. Knife magical pewpew disrupts the living spell form, while the assault from Fellhorn psychic weapon completes the work... As the creature dissolves into rings of smoke and embers, those of the group that approached the turn on the road can now see from distance what the creature was aiming at: a large group of ghost-like creatures, looking like little vortices wrapped up in mummy bandages. At least ten of thems are flowing around a single man, wailing courses from their undead 'mouths', while the man tries to hit them with his staff.

The man, who wears a tatttered vest and a torn cloak and looks like he hasn't slept in ages, resembles Maelis Satero!


Knowledge: (Religion) DC 20 to recognize the creatures.
Malimar: Knife can feel that the vibration is coming from somewhere under the ground where the ghosts and the wizard are fighting.

[LairdMaon]

"So! Have allies! HA! Pity we must take him alive. Could let them handle him. Oh well."

Without another word, Fellhorn jogs into combat with the closest ghostly mummy.


First attack
To Hit [roll0]
To Hurt [roll1]

Second attack
To Hit [roll2]
To Hurt [roll3]

[Malimar]

The fireball is asploded! Success! Now, for what it was fighting -- ghosty things! "There's something under the ground there, where the fight is. Something to keep in mind." He ponders... and edges closer... and raises his holy symbol of the Blood of Vol, and issues a thundering command to the ghosty dudes, "Now you stop it."

Move: Move to within 60 feet of the furthest-away ghosty dude

Standard: Rebuke/Command Undead (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/combat/specialAttacks.htm#turnOrRebukeUndead)
turn check [roll0] = most powerful undead affected = 9 HD
turn damage [roll1] = total HD rebuked
Any undead that have fewer than 5 HD that would be rebuked are instead controlled, up to a maximum of 10 HD worth. (So if these are 4HD Mourners, then two are controlled and three are rebuked, I think.)

[supernerd]

Riyas chuckled as he saw Knife rebuking the ghostly figures. "Looks like great minds think alike, because that was my idea as well!" He pointed to his bear. "You, keep ready to attack if something springs from underneath." The half king then turned his attention to the free undead. His voice was tinged with shadow, and his eyes glowing with dark energy welling up from inside him, his mouth forming the tongue of the devils. "You there. You belong to me. I command you to stop."

Yay Cleric powers! Rebuke/Command undead. Expecting to command if they're not advanced.
Turning Check: +2 from Religion, [roll0] CL14
Turning Damage: [roll1] +/- Turning check mod: 29HD

[CozJa]

Fellhorn jogs into combat, swinging madly at the closest mourner he sees, and vaporizes it with his blows;
Knife and Ryias, instead, after the halfling recognized the creatures, are able to use their powers to calm the mindless rage of the restless spirits, and stop their assaults.
Both the halfling and the warforged are in complete control of two mourners, for a total of four, and the remaining five do not move, as hypnotized by a divine power, so different from the one they knew in life.


You can hear the whispers of the dead soldiers: they cry for vengeance and continue to speak of betrayal.


As this happens, Maeils looks at the group. His face is that of a man almost lost in madness, and it looks like he didn't sleep and eat, or bathed, for more than a week. somehow, it seems even strange to see him alive.

"Are you... a dream? An hallucination of my weakening mind? Still..." he observes Knife and its strange patchwork of 'skins', and the unusual hulking creature with an energy hammer. "Still you are so strange that I'd almost think you are real. Or maybe, my mind is lost... lost beyond repair. What am I thinking? Saved by a warforged with antennae?"

[Malimar]

Knife twitches his antennae. To the party: "This appears to be our quarry, yes?"

To Maelis, louder: "Attention, Mr. Satero: This is both a rescue and an arrest. If you come with us peacefully, we will not be forced to do Unfortunate Things to you."

To the Mourners: "Undead servants, please loom over this man to menace him, without harming him."

[LairdMaon]

Fellhorn towers over the spellcaster. "Allow to explain, criminal. If you run,
will eat your feet. If you try magic, will eat your fingers and tongue. Please test this. Am very hungry today."

He turns to the party, "I believe it is time to go."


[roll]1d20+4[roll]
It'd be 9 higher if I could use my strength rather then charisma, lol.
I screwed up the roll...

[LairdMaon]

[roll]1d20+4/[roll]
It'd be 9 higher if I could use my strength rather then charisma, lol.