[IC] AtS's Dark Sun: Fury of the Wastewalker - D&D 4e

[AtS]

The Tablelands: Journey to Tyr, Day 5 | Dawn

Howling winds whip biting sand through the encampment. Suddenly, a flurry of loud tearing sounds startle anyone who had slept through the beginnings of the early-morning sandstorm to an abrupt waking. The thick hide walls of the wagons, the only shelter from the raging gale outside, start to tear, pierced in several places. Black glints within the sandy gusts that burst through the openings, unnatural obsidian shards tearing the camp apart.

The caravan overseer, Hogarth, wakes with a shout "G'dammit!" he curses as he rolls over and rises with surprising quickness for a man of his size and stature. He immediately ducks back down, yelping in pain and shaking his head while covering his face with his sleeve. On his exposed forearm and the bare skin of his forehead, small cuts start to bleed. The sand is relentless and full of stinging obsidian debris that slices through flesh and leather alike. He shouts orders. "Oi! This sandstorm's gonna be our end if we don't think quick! Get up! We need to fix the wagons!" His barking voice rises above the roar of the sandstorm. Blood starts to run down his face, streaking red down his brow and nose. He wipes it, sleeve coming away crimson-stained.

Around, the storm howls, limiting visibility beyond a couple of feet. The gale swells in strength and doesn't show any sign of relenting any time soon. The sand and obsidian shards threaten to destroy the wagons and bring this journey to an early end if they continue like this much longer.

The Tablelands are a true cross section of Athas. This region features herders, elf tribes, raiders, dwarf miners, trading posts, and ruins teeming with savage marauders. Scores of tiny hamlets, remote camps, and nomadic tribes are scattered about the area.

Sandstorms are a common occurrence in the Tablelands. Survival depends on hoarding as many supplies as possible without hindering yourself too much. Obsidian storms are so unusual that they are considered myths by most people. Something decidedly odd is occurring.

Map (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1_6YelslHf8Hy4E-Cv9uAeiDTVn_wcKCf8cvoq3QRjWs/edit?usp=sharing)

Welcome to the game! We aren't currently in combat, but here's a map so you can get your bearings. Feel free to place your tokens anywhere within the start area, and make an initial post! Additionally, if you've got a character portrait you'd like me to use, please post it in the OOC thread and I'll get you a custom token. I've linked a Google Sheets map above, and set it to allow editing - please check that it's working for you, and if it's not, let me know in the OOC thread as well.

[Zero Prime]

Alaeryn Rahdaerys (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1779732)
Level 1 Human Ranger
HP: 37 Bloodied: 18 Surges: 7 Surge Value: 9
AC: 17 FORT: 17 REF: 13 WILL: 11


"You're still drunk on fermented mare's milk Hogarth!!!" She screamed to be heard over the rising winds, "By the time we fix them we'll be torn to bloody ribbons by this thrice damned storm!" She strode to the hitch of the southern most wagon, where the erdland, a massive flightless bird with ruddy scales was becoming increasingly agitated with the situation. She patted it's head, eyeing it's large, hooked beak with a measure of respect, "It's ok girl, I want to get out of the open too."

She turned to where Overyx was stirring by the remains of last evenings fire, "Ryx! Get your lazy ass over here and help me move this damn wagon into the lee of the first!" She figured that by providing at least one wagon with cover by sacrificing the other to the storm, they'd be able to salvage half their cargo, and perhaps most importantly their lives.

"HOGARTH!!" She screamed again, "Abandon the northern wagon, help us with the southern most then we'll find shelter in that outcropping to the west!!!"


OOC: The above is all assuming the wind driving the storm is coming from the North, providing a lee behind the 1st wagon where we can stow the 2nd wagon minimizing damage, and then haul ass to the rock outcropping for ourselves and wait out the storm.

Our crew is pretty beefy with a 20 & 18 Strength from myself and Overyx respectively, so hoping with the help of the animals pulling the caravan we can get it stowed quickly, minimizing exposure.

Athletics Check: 18 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=23633959&postcount=20).

[ShadowMist]

Darion wasn't really sure what to do in the current situation, and Alaeryn taking the lead was a perfect opening. He motions Gwyn to follow him, as he positions himself on the other side of the wagon. "I'll help you with that." Drawing on his physical training, he channels his impressive physique to assist the human.
Athletics [roll0]

[atlastrembles]

Overyx Terii
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Level 1 Goliath Warden
HP: 33 Bloodied: 16 Surges: 12 Surge Value: 8
AC: 16 FORT: 15 REF: 10 WILL: 14

Overyx stands up slowly and squints into the storm. Something felt...off here. He stands and peers into the rushing wind, heedless of the fine nicks and cuts the fine obsidian traced along his exposed skin. He had endured worse, had felt Athas' pain, still feels it. The storm was just one more howl of rage. Whispering a short prayer for his god's patience, accepting the howl into himself, the almost 8-foot tall goliath turns and marches over to Alaeryn where she is straining against the wagon.

The warden stretches, twisting his neck to either side and loosening up casually, pretending to ignore the howling storm. He bends to Alaeryn's ear and says laughing, She is angry, today, no?. Then, pointing with his head he indicates the second wagon. We get both wagons into cover, or are you afraid of a little sand? Without waiting for a response, he places two buckler-size hands on the wagon's rear and lifts as much as pushes it towards the rock outcropping to the west.

[masteraleph]

Rieta
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Level 1 Tiefling Psion|Warlock
HP: 30 Bloodied: 15 Surges: 6 Surge Value: 7 Power Points: 3
AC: 14 FORT: 10 REF: 14 WILL: 16

History: [roll0]
If we're also supposed to make a nature check, then [roll1], if it's just one, use the history check.


"This one came up awfully quick! shouts Rieta, over the roar of the storm. Swathed in desert clothing, she tugs the mask down over her face, leaving only a pair of horns exposed, coming out over the top of her head. Lacking the great strength of the others, she's going to need to come up with another way to help. She stands next to the southern wagon, and spotting a bundle of food that has fallen out, sends a Far Hand to retrieve it.

Rieta is suspicious of how quickly this storm sprang up and is wondering whether it might be magical. She attempts to sense magic with Arcana.
[roll2]

[Dimers]

As the glass shards start to penetrate into the wagon she's riding, Scald grudgingly recognizes she can't just wait for others to fix the problem. She takes a moment to focus her will: one breath in and out, deep but quick. A steady mind will help steady her feet, and with wind this strong, the very small woman will need that aid.

Scald hops nimbly out, wills into existence a psionic construct like a stiff leather sheet with a handle, and dashes to Hogarth's windward side. The impromptu shield is not large enough to cover her completely, never mind the overseer, but it thwarts the worst of the damage for both.

Shouting to be heard over the wind, she tells the overseer "I'll cover you best I can." Her mind is mostly occupied with keeping her footing and predicting where Hogarth will move, but in one cranial corner she's smirking over the fact that she may as well have kept her bodyguard title.

I'm using mental tools to make a personal windbreak, and will re-make it as often as needed (I assume it'll become useless pretty quickly). If you want an Acrobatics check to stay upright and in place ... please don't say Athletics ... [roll0]