[IC] PF1e Red Hand of Doom

[Cardea]

https://paperanddice.files.wordpress.com/2018/04/rhod_banner.jpg (https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?661468-OOC-PF1e-Red-Hand-of-Doom)

"... and she created her own self a thousand times over, claiming rulership through blood and birth of her new children."



Player
Character
Race
Class



Frosty
Rozessylth the Just (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheets/?id=2840133)
Dragon!!
Draconic Exemplar



TankLaser007
Vymarux SIlverstar (https://og.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2842933)
Wyvaran
Cleric



Benoojian
Rickard Plinth (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheets/?id=2842874)
Dwarf
Artificer



Aldurin
Lestara Sathir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheets/?id=2840772)
Catfolk
Avowed



Kitsune Voss
Corwyth Redbow (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheets/?id=2846159)
Human
Hunter



Year 387, Month of Aproskt, Day 38 of 50.

In Draconic, it is called Seheixuir, after the desire for the sun. In the language of the elementals, it is Fwstw in Aquan, Eixu in Ignan, Tuock in Terran, and Sehei in Auran. But in the common tongue, it is late days of Autumn, where the air has already begun to sharpen, where leaves have fallen if they will, and those that will hibernate have already begun their preparations. The sun glares through thick clouds, warming the sky against otherwise chilly air. The roads are sparse in these dwindling days, with many travelers only braving this season out of need, contract, or, in some dire cases, desperation.

The Elsir Vale is a vast and bountiful land during the Spring and Summer seasons, and in Autumn the towns that dwell in its safety, both great and small, pull in harvests and hunt for their fill, preparing for the Winter to come. While some fields can be planted with those rare few edible plants that can grow in the harsh cold, it is a time of survival and planning. A time of huddling in the warmth of home and hearth and happy faces.

Which begs the question: why have you not taken refuge in such a place? What brings you to these cold roads?

The town of Drellin's Ferry lies a few miles ahead of you, bordering on the much maligned and afeared Witchwood, but a pivotal rest stop for those wishing to seek the towns and people deeper within the Vale. It is your next stop, the only place that could house your small group for miles, and a, hopefully, place of refuge for a few days from sharper and sharper winds.

How do you fair on this morning?

[Kitsune Voss]

Corwyth travels where the trail takes her. She is a bit further north at this time of year than she really expected but still nothing she does not think she can handle. She is after all a hunter. "Well, Warlor, we may need to eat bark and leaves this winter." For a bear he looks at her philosophically. Human decides wear to go and he just fights when needed. With Cory's ability to convert inedible stuff to food, is is unlikely they will starve.

Corwyth is glad she got some new cold weather gear with the stuff from last year needing to be replaced. She chiuckles to herself, thinking about herself and the gown she wore in the past. With the years that have past and how she dresses today, it is unlikely anyone would recognize her.

[Aldurin]

The tall feline member of the group keeps pace with the others in an easy gait. A heavy brown coat of thick wool disrupts her silhouette enough to hide how slender she is, her tail tucked behind the back of her coat, though her hood is kept down so there is no mistaking the obvious signs of a catfolk. Her ears twitch with the occasional cry of birdsong in the distance, but she has kept a fairly affable expression for the trip so far. Lestara considered keeping her hood up earlier in the trip, but her presence will likely streak through the rumor mill unless she entirely hides her presence. Best to walk openly and with no sign of subterfuge. If Finn is really out there then she would be best served by waiting for his first reaction, his first mistake.

Then Corwyth makes a comment that causes her to grimace slightly.

"That's just tea with the dosage increased at least a hundred-fold. Sustenance by a torturously-stretched technicality. I risk sounding like an overworked town crier with how much I repeat myself, dear, but you must focus less on survival and indulge more on living. Let's see if Drellin's Ferry has a local specialty, and should it appeal then it will be my treat to help you get into the pace of treating yourself." She looks over her shoulder at the other travelers. "That goes for you, too! Misery doesn't ruin many trips but that doesn't mean we shouldn't take measures against it."

[Frosty]

Rozessylth the Just is travelling along this cold, windy road. On foot, no less. Recently she has been traveling with Vymarax the wyvaran, and she has remained in her elven form. Rose knows not the attitudes of people in the Elsir Vale, and she prefers to be cautious at first.

"Besides..." she says to her companion who is walking next to her. "...if the enemy see me early, then I won't get the see the terror on their face when I transform in front of them!"

Rose is currently bundled up in a heavier robe (purple of course) with her mithral chain shirt underneath. She prefers the hotter climes, but she is willing to go anywhere to chase down evil dragons.

[Benoojian]

Rickard doesn't feel the cold as the first thing he did this morning was to create a quick wand of endure elements and protect himself. He adds a cloak only to not look out of place with the rest of the caravan. He stays near the front of the group, a nervous feeling going down his spine, "I rely on my magic for the creature comforts, so traveling in the winter is only marginally more exhausting." He normally wouldn't rush into an unknown region this late into the season but the rumors he'd heard were deeply concerning, concerning enough to drag him here. "But what makes the rest of you desperate enough to brave the weather?"

[Kitsune Voss]

"That's just tea with the dosage increased at least a hundred-fold. Sustenance by a torturously-stretched technicality. I risk sounding like an overworked town crier with how much I repeat myself, dear, but you must focus less on survival and indulge more on living. Let's see if Drellin's Ferry has a local specialty, and should it appeal then it will be my treat to help you get into the pace of treating yourself." She looks over her shoulder at the other travelers. "That goes for you, too! Misery doesn't ruin many trips but that doesn't mean we shouldn't take measures against it."

In an almost teasing tone, "Well, Warlor will try to eat us out of house and home if we let him. I doubt any village would let us stay long while we eat all their food. I will say that there could be one last harvest fair. I cannot call myself a wonderful dancer but some dancing would be fun."

[Frosty]

Rickard doesn't feel the cold as the first thing he did this morning was to create a quick wand of endure elements and protect himself. He adds a cloak only to not look out of place with the rest of the caravan. He stays near the front of the group, a nervous feeling going down his spine, "I rely on my magic for the creature comforts, so traveling in the winter is only marginally more exhausting." He normally wouldn't rush into an unknown region this late into the season but the rumors he'd heard were deeply concerning, concerning enough to drag him here. "But what makes the rest of you desperate enough to brave the weather?"

"Rickard, I wish I had to the...age and experience necessary to master the arcane arts. I find the cold somewhat disagreeable myself." She holds her cloak more tightly around her. "I've come because I've heard rumors of an evil dragon being sighted in this vale. You?"

[Benoojian]

"Rickard, I wish I had to the...age and experience necessary to master the arcane arts. I find the cold somewhat disagreeable myself." She holds her cloak more tightly around her. "I've come because I've heard rumors of an evil dragon being sighted in this vale. You?"

"Now my dear, it almost sounds like you're calling me old, which would be a shame since then I would be disinclined to offer you your own endure elements." Rickard's eyes twinkled with mirth that slowly faded as he remembered his purpose, "I've heard of people disappearing from the Vale and came to investigate. Perhaps it's your dragon responsible."

[TankLaser007]

Vymarax, walked mostly in silence next to his companion Rozessylth, he had barely spoken as they grew ever closer to the Vale, and the likely last real settlement before they entered 'the wilds,' this Drellin's Ferry. His mind was racing through so many things. He was reviewing the topography of the region he had been studying for last few days. Fortunately from the skies things were much easier to place then from the ground. He would have to seize an opportunity to scout ahead and better get his bearings. He was ever amazed at how the earth-bound were able to both create such accurate depictions without seeing them from the clouds or even ensure they were able to maintain their course from the flat, often obscured, terrestrial environs.

More pressing though was thought of this dragon. Could it truly be the one they sought. The one she sought ...

Just at that moment Rozessylth spoke.


"Besides..." she says to her companion who is walking next to her. "...if the enemy see me early, then I won't get the see the terror on their face when I transform in front of them!"

"Well I would imagine, the surprise at such a grandiose form would be enough to startle or at the least awe those currently in our company," the cleric said turning his reptilian eyes upon those who had joined them on the road leading to the Ferry.

Both his cobalt scales and mithril and jewelled vestments glinted as grey clouds were pierced momentarily be shafts of radiant sunlight.He flutered his wings anxiously. a tell for thos who knew him well -- like Rose, that there was much on the Wyvaran's mind.

"M'lady Rozessylth," he said quickly in Draconic as his claws dug into the earth and his leg tensed, "I think I will scout ahead a bit."

And with that he half lept half walked,in only a few broad steps, and several powerful thrusts of his outstretched wings he was free of the earth, and felt too a bit less burned by his racing mind. He slowly gained altitude in a lazy spiral above the walking party, even under the enchantments warding him from the elements he could feel the air was much cooler here, he looked for a warm updraft to help him gain further height and then began flying towards the Ferry, but being mindful to not to go too far, he would just fly ahead a bit and look for any signs of trouble on the path ahead and then return to the rest as they neared the gates.



Active Spells: Endure Elements (24 hours)
[roll0] (If needed)

[Benoojian]

"I have a bad feeling. These roads have been too quiet, even for this season. If I'm wrong, we can always rest in the town." Rickard says as he prepares a charged item of protection from arrows and casts the ward on himself. The Artificer had wasted charges in the past on such hunches, but they'd also saved his life on other occasions. "Anyone else feel like indulging in a little paranoia?"

[Frosty]

"Well, I would not mind receiving some extra protection to harden my skin into bark. Paranoia is only paranoia if it's unreasonable and unfounded."

[Kitsune Voss]

"I like the quiet," Cory responds. "Chill wind blowing through your hair. Makes one feel alive. Even as the leaves turn red and fall, there is still a pulse of life around us. Nature can be a harsh mistress but she is still beautiful."

"Does not mean that we should ignore danger or to let our guard drop however," Cory adds.

[Benoojian]

"Just getting a little too comfortable with people wanting to kill me. Big barkskin for me..." Rickard cast *alchemical allocation* on his potion of barkskin then downs it and spits the potion back into the bottle. "And little barkskin for you," Rickard enchants a twig and pokes the apparent elf he's been traveling with it. Both their skins turn brown and rough for a few seconds before the obvious effects fade.

Endure Elements ~22hrs
Protection from Arrows 5hrs
Barkskin +5 4hrs

on Rose: Barkskin +2 50mins

[Cardea]

The cold, sharp air pervades still as the road crests a small rise and descends into a small grove in a larger dell. A farmhouse, barely hidden among the trees, hangs to the left off the side of the road. There are many of such places along the road in the Vale, places where someone or some family left or died, the reality of forest living becoming oppressive or becoming too dreary. Many a family must abandon the farmstead because the parents grow old and the youth move elsewhere.

Behind you come the march of hooves, and some thirty behind you is a lone horse and rider. They wear mercenary colors on their horse's saddle, a trifecta of green, brown and blue, while they themselves wear well used studded leather, a plethora of furs, and a slung bow. The lizardfolk calls out, "Poor weather, but fine folk? I've a caravan not far behind me. Can I trust we'll have a safe passingby?"

The eyes of a crafter have to look for flaws. The imperceptible, the fatal, the insidious. Glue that doesn't bond evenly, wax that burns away, impurity in the metal. You have to consciously look for things at first, but then your work gives you a reflex for what doesn't work. You see where things fall apart.

Not far from the road, crouched low among leaves, are several persons. If you had to guess, they're wearing camouflage: a ghillie suit, to be exact. With what looks like a leaf cloak on top. That's the flaw, though: too much mass. Three on the right, three and one on the left; one of them has more mass than the others.

Nature has an abundance of emptiness. This was one of the first things you learned when you learned how the rules of nature work: there is so much emptiness. Its in that emptiness that air must exist, and with that air comes scent. Flowers, animals, water. These things come naturally. But smoke, meat, sweat. These are things that linger in the air, that drift and cling before it can be blown away.

Not far from the road comes the cross breeze of that smell. Smoke and meat and sweat. Someone made camp hours ago, and then scuffed it. But not well enough. Your eyes flick towards where it comes from, and you see it: a group of people, camouflaged in grass and leaves, crouched low on either side of the road. It comes from both sides of the road, and somewhere there lays another smell:

Sulphur.

The ground is peculiar thing to you: it is limited, it is singular, it is difficult to traverse. And the sight from the ground is limited and confining. Truly, flight is the way that your god intends for you to make your way through the world. And it is in this flight that you find the limitation removed, and a truth is brought back to you: things don't prepare to be seen from above.

You fly high up into the air and look down, and see your travelling contingent on the road. You see a farmhouse, likely abandoned from the vines that claim its walls. You see two hounds, their spine and mouth alight with fire, held by collared chain by a hobgoblin. You see he wears heavy armor. You see he has at his side a spiked mace. You see on his shield a symbol you do not recognize.

K. Religion: Your bonus is five higher than its Hit Die, therefore this is automatic: You recognize that these two hounds are hell hounds. They're known to track and use pack tactics. They are immune to fire, vulnerable to cold, and possess a breath attack. They cannot speak, but they can understand commands, and they will outrun your group.

[Aldurin]

Lestara turns and smiles toward the stranger. "To waylay another in this chill would be evil twofold. We just want the same as your caravan likely does, to put this road behind us and sleep somewhere warm for the brief opportunity we have. If your group outpaces us then so be it." She remains affable while she takes in the details of the new arrival, trying to piece together the plausibility of the stranger's claim.

Sense Motive [roll0]: Does this stranger actually intend for this to be peaceful?
K. Local [roll1]: Are those colors from a mercenary company that Lestara knows of?
Diplomacy (Using Silver Tongue to take 10 on the roll, defaulting it to 31): Convey that Lestara wants this to be peaceful. Violence is ugly enough in pleasant circumstances, and today should not be a day that anyone wants to fight in.

[Frosty]

"Greetings and well-met. The way looks clear for now, fellow traveler. Tell me, are the roads arounds here usually this empty?"

[Kitsune Voss]

Hopefully low enough that those behind them cannot hear, Corwyth whispers, "I think an ambush. people hidden in the grass just in front of us. Both sides of the road. Smell sulfur as well." Her own hand carefully and slowly reaches down to her bow, just in case. She does not want to react in a way to startle anyone.

[Benoojian]

The cold, sharp air pervades still as the road crests a small rise and descends into a small grove in a larger dell. A farmhouse, barely hidden among the trees, hangs to the left off the side of the road. There are many of such places along the road in the Vale, places where someone or some family left or died, the reality of forest living becoming oppressive or becoming too dreary. Many a family must abandon the farmstead because the parents grow old and the youth move elsewhere.

Behind you come the march of hooves, and some thirty behind you is a lone horse and rider. They wear mercenary colors on their horse's saddle, a trifecta of green, brown and blue, while they themselves wear well used studded leather, a plethora of furs, and a slung bow. The lizardfolk calls out, "Poor weather, but fine folk? I've a caravan not far behind me. Can I trust we'll have a safe passingby?"



The seconds tick away as Rickard processes what he's seeing. Rickard tenses and slowly pulls out his crossbow with one hand and a scroll of bless with the other, "I think you might want to pull out that bow, friend. We may be about to discover why we didn't meet any travelers coming the other direction." He gestures towards two groups of people hidden in the underbrush. Rickard hated being right but he was always putting together the pieces. He began casting the scroll, including the lizardfolk as an ally for now.

[Cardea]

“We? What we? You? I? Us?” The lizardfolk japes, chuckling, until a voice calls out from the hills around you. It is a coarse voice, wrapped in shredded command and aging voice, and it speaks in a dialect that flows uncommon consonants like butter.

”Svabol thran re wux de? si simethot yth jahen wer ergriff iri thesekir nomeno donoap.”

”What flight are you from? I thought we were the only ones watching this road.”

This lizardfolk is honest, but nervous. He is suppressing urgency and fear in his voice, masking it in joviality. You suspect a sharp tongue is not far from him, given this tone you detect.

[Kitsune Voss]

For good or ill, Corwyth does not understand the language of dragons.
The hunter looks around and keeps an eye where she thinks the ambush will come from.
She will whisper again, "Ambush."

[TankLaser007]

The cleric of Tamara circles over the party, hearing the Draconic speech Vymarax replies in a high-pitched screeching voice punctuated in sharp hisses timed with the beat of his black hued wings, “Svabol vi thran batobot renthisjic de wer ordah? Donoapi re theseka edrokilti de wer svant!”

“What a flight that speaks from the earth? Roads are watched best from the sky!”

The Wyvaran then quickly switches tongues and glides over near where Rose is situated,“Rose oal ol iflee theee ou scoomtletpuca centhlun!”

“Rose there are hell hounds and hobgoblins ahead!”

He then removes his crossbow and runs a clawed finger over his quiver of bolts. As he circles cautiously above the group.


Flying ~100' above the party
Cast Abundant Ammunition
Active Spells: Endure Elements (https://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/endure-elements/) (24 hours); Abundant Ammunition (https://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/a/abundant-ammunition/) (5 minutes)

[Aldurin]

Lestara maintains eye contact with the mounted lizardfolk as the others warn of the ambush, only raising an eyebrow when a voice shouts from hiding. She smirks as she switches to Draconic, speaking to the stranger in front of her.

"If you have any way of navigating this peacefully then by all means take the the lead. Hellhounds complicate negotiations in my experience."

As she waits for the reaction she draws out her sturdy mithral shield and touches the more familiar minds in range.

"Our pleasant rider likely had some foreknowledge of this specific danger, and might have a chance to pass themselves off as more accepted in the area than us. Stay wary of them until they can prove which side they're on."

[Frosty]

The presence of hellhounds signals to Rose that the hidden party is no friend to the forces of Good. She plays along to see if she can uncover more about this group's aims.

(In Draconic) "You obviously thought wrong. These roads are long and needs more than one group to properly patrol. As you can see, our patrol group has aerial reconnaissance, Every group has different capabilities."

[Kitsune Voss]

ooc: Don't forget that Cory does not speak Dragonic. Have to pick it up next level at this rate.