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    Default The Swallowfeld Children (IC)










    Part I: Seven Arrows
    Main Quest: The Witch of Undercity
    Difficulty: (3) Medium | Reward: (2) Low | LoFP Challenge-Rating: (0) None
    Raph'æl has gone into hiding. At his summons you have returned to the great city of Seven-Arrows. In search of the elusive Bechal Rossfield, Raph'æl's contemporary enemy and bitter rival - you set off in search of the faceless Witch of Undercity; Gal'bertel S'Sisery. While no one knows what S'Sisery looks like, it is no mystery as to where he dwells: Now each of you make for Romere's Tower, a heavily guarded mechanical-wonder which wandered about thickly crowded Lantern District. Possessing within it the only gate into Undercity. The Warren Trading Company closely manages all traffic in and out of the gate. Entering would prove no problem, but emerging from the city again would be another matter entirely...

    Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 4:30 PM / AR 4732
    Capital of Varisia; The City of Seven-Arrows
    District: Low-Castle; - Outside Vornheim










    They found themselves returning to the city from places both far and foreign. Traveling through the Mushfens had become somewhat tolerable in recent years, as patrols were formed and roads paved. Caravans traveling from The City of Monuments from the west, or Korvosa to the east both met in Seven-Arrows. A highway of trade and travel which cut through the once inhospitable lands. A heavy cloud blotted out the city from far - only visible was the grey billowing veil which cloaked it. A mixture of ash, smog and the warmth of steaming engines colliding with the frigid air. Since Venra's Eye had taken over Conquer's Bay, the weather had shifted dramatically. The once humid region become deathly cold - the moisture in the air became like knives carried by the seaward breeze. It could chill any man, and even kill the reckless or unprepared at night. Looking at the city from the north, the light seemed to bend and deflect, casting ominous pink and red hues from the Primal Storm which turned and spun out at sea.

    It did not matter from which direction travelers came. The spanning metropolis was a vast and complicated city of intermingling districts, towns and cities within. Tiered and leveled, it was perhaps the strangest bastion of civilization within The Inner Sea. One enough to rival even Kaer Maga. No one knew how Raph'æl fabricated the town - how it was built, or even when. It was as much a mystery to those who lived there as it was to the world. Never before had such a city existed, except perhaps in the tales of Ancient Thassilon during its Golden Age. Born seemingly over-night, and in the time of man's greatest need, The City of Disquiet, as it was called, was filled with unexplained wonders - few of which seemed of this world. The Keepers, a Guild emerging during recent years, were dedicated to exploring and uncovering the mysteries of the city and the Primal Storms, documenting their work and providing answers to the mysteries they solved. They were what The Pathfinder's once were, before The Shattered Crusade. Now The Society stood as the last defense against The Runelords and the coming enemies which threatened to annihilate life from the surface of Golarion, a second time.

    The city stood as a level of cities, stacked upon each other in a strange and circular citadel of intermingling societies and peoples. Home to over 890,000 citizens, Seven-Arrows was the largest known settlement in the world. The power which The House of Common and Lords wielded together united Varisia from a loose band of city-states into a nation capable of defending itself should the tragedy of SandPoint unfold a second time. The Society's Chroniclers and core still operated within it's ancestral home in Absalom, but the sword of The Pathfinder Society, its operational arm, resided in equal distribution within Seven-Arrows, Magnimar, and Korvosa. The Three Cities trained constantly to maintain a readied posture to combat any new threat which it may face - prepared for war. Seven-Arrows spanned nearly half of the Mushfens, touching the edge of Conquer's Bay. It's lowest level, The District of Low-Castle was a massive wall of mixed stone and skymetal alloy, forming the bricks which surrounded the great city. Spanning nearly 270,000 feet in length, the wall of Low-Castle wrapped around the city, after running close to 50 miles in parapets and defensive fixtures, before crashing into The District of High-Castle. The massive town of soldiers and adventurer's who came into employment as guardsmen and servicemen sustained service and trade within Low-Castle without any outside intervention. Craftsmen, namely stonemasons, were always at work tending to the wall while other men and women skilled in construction and the employment of siege weaponry saw to reinforcing the outer-most wall. The only entrance into the city was through both Low-Castle and High-Castle. From the east and west, great bridges extended across massive motes, capable of allowing passage for thousands of visitors and merchants at a time without any discomfort. Two great statures, cloaked and armed with weapons the size of towers stood carved into the gateways on either side of Low-Castle's gates. Much like the bridges, it was no mystery that these Goliath-figures would spring to life and combat any would-be enemy with unfettered fury.


    [The Returning Heros: Xiaomiao/Mason/ Stredexon]



    Now. After a long travel, a group of well known faces enters the gates of Low-Castle - The soldier's know them well. They are Pathfinders. The strongest warriors in the land - Or, so they say. The respect and awe once held for The Society has begun to diminish, and the youth of the new age look at them with the eyes of contempt. Nothing more then relics of some bygone age. In an age of peace, their purpose has seemingly passed. The older and wiser know this is not the case - they remember well the horrors visited upon them. The veterans of The Crusade of six years past still hold their heads high with pride and honor The Society's new champions - but such is all but forgotten to those born during the crusade. A history lesson half-listened to. The prattling of old men. It meant nothing to the common-man. The achievements of Vosper were real - this city, the might wielded by one man, it was all tangible, but to the eyes of those who'd not lived before The Crusade, the purpose of The Pathfinders had come and gone.

    A caravan had come in with them. A train of 20 heavy wagons baring the seal of Lord D'Aritel, Lord Mayor of Magnimar. After The Crusade, Magnimar entered a period of great political strife ending with an explosive conclusion, in a Coup De'etat. Civil war filled the streets of The Capital District and Alabaster for nearly five-days. The former Lord-Mayor Haldmeer Grobaras was imprisoned and cast from his office. His various crimes were revealed after a conspiracy which withheld Magnimarian soldiers, and Pathfinders, from supporting the war-effort came to light after The Crusade's conclusion. An enraged population and inflamed House of Lords was too much for Mayor Grobaras to contain, and it exploded in his face, nearly killing him. Grobaras is still serving his 30 year sentence within the dark cells of The Irespan.

    A number of familiar faces could be seen in the crowd of 50 or so people. A tug in your left hand directs you to two-others. Pathfinders, much like yourself. The Magnimarian traders poured through the gate with wagons, steeds and creates full of wares from the city. A number of adventurer's and less reputable shady figures mingled with the crowd. Soldiers from the ramparts hollered and hooted from above with cheers at the returning Pathfinders. The experienced soldiers wore battle-scarred armor with the crest of SandPoint Citadel branded into their armor, or baring an original guardsmen crest hammered into their curiass or shields. The cries quickly died as an outlandishly dressed Varisian gypsy rode through the gate. Her cloths were colorful in the traditional Varisian fashion. Wearing a brightly colored veil sitting back atop her head, but not shrouding her features. A small scar across one eye and charming vibrant features. She wore two translucent swords on her side and carried what appeared to be a narrow adamantine anvil attached to a solid, but short shaft. Far too heavy for a man to carry, and far too large to be called a weapon... By what trick she managed to carry such an absurd instrument was anyone's guess. She had a sour disposition, ruining an otherwise beautiful face, and though it was the first time any of them had seen the Varisian woman who rode into Low-Castle atop of flaming black horse, they knew who she was. Proprietor of The Dawnhammer, a traveling tavern and theatre, Mayli Artel. Men spoke in hushed voices of her, though she was quite popular in Magnimar and Inner Vornheim. The Dervish of Desna was supposed to have died some 15 years ago by all accounts. In the east, in Taldor she had fought to defend the peoples against a yet-explained demonic scourge erupting from the earth - an event that would be considered kosher in The World Wound, but unheard of so far from the bleak-pit. She was buried in Absalom, a day of memorial dedicated to her sacrifice - and the rest passed to history. Yet in recent years, she had seemingly returned... or at least some figure which bore her likeness and name. There was no explanation to be found. Her Nightmare carried her off into High-Castle and eventually into Vornheim, the hush of the crowd died away as she left, questions running through their mind, searching for answers - A ghost? A god? Or a fake?

    There was an answer... But all were too afraid to find it. A fear perpetuated by the thought - the answer may fight them. The Demonic Siege of Oppara was not something to be spoken of. An event looked away from in Varisia, a piece of history ignored, because it just just far away enough to hold at length and claim blissful ignorance. Something, someone, was tearing down world they thought they knew around them. Defining their own rules, rewritting everything they thought they knew. Golarion was changing. It was a thought far too frightful to face. If such a thing could happen in Taldor.... could it not happen in Varisia? Of course not. Not in the minds of its people. Not to them... And not to Seven-Arrows. They looked to one another, the mark upon each Pathfinder's hand seemed to pull to one another. Those who did not wear gloves were easily distinguishable.






    Side Quest: The Dawnhammer
    Difficulty: (4) Hard | Reward: (4) High | LoFP Challenge-Rating: (0) None
    The Champion of Desna has returned. After her death in Oppara the implications of her resurrection and appearance in Varisia has disturbed and unsettled the minds of its citizens. Is she real? A ghost? A fake? No one knows this, nor how or why she has returned. The truth of this mystery may threaten every soul within Seven-Arrows. Mayli Artel's location is known to just about anyone who resides within the city. A theatre and tavern within The Commons known as The Dawnhammer.










    [The Hero of Sky: Mac Lir]


    High above in the sky, the city appeared as a massive labyrinth of tiers and stone. Winding sprawling cities laced within circular walls and strange defensive structures of animated stone and metal. Like an egg's shell protectively shielding the interior city from the world about it. The thick billowing smoke and mist cloaked the sky. He knew he could go no further. The defensive fortifications which defended the city above would obliterate his flying vehicle before he could even jump from its burning wreckage. He stood, arms crossed watching the sight of High-Castle come into clear view. The Docksman, with his stupid black hat, stood at upon the Sky-Landing looking out as his ship made its final approach. He could hear one of his crewhand's call out, "CAPTAIN! BEGINNING OUR FINAL APPROACH!" The large tower in the center of High-Castle pierced the castle-town like a great spear cast from some skyborn god. Two other airships sat docked upon the Sky-Landing. One usually never left, but The Queen-Anne's Revenge was very rarely seen in dock. Cayden Paradise, the ship's captain was a ruthless and feared sky-pirate. He operated with the blessing and endorsement of The Warren Trading Co. even outside Varisia as a corsair. Raiding or destroying any assets, persons or transports which did not align with Warren Trading's interests. A cold and notoriously brutal man with an equally brutal crew. The bones of past enemies hung from chains from their fore-mast, torn black sails waving ominously above. Unlike other ships. The Queen Anne had no source of flight, none which was known. It appeared as a massive seafaring gallion-warship which had been lifted from the water and outfitted with 50 guns. A flying terror thought to not exist outside the sea. Mar Lir and Paradise had an unspoken agreement or sorts, as the only two individuals with airships in all of Varisia, the third owned by The Free Hands and not an individual. Paradise didn't meddle in the smuggler's affairs and he didn't meddle in his. The rest, was simply business.

    A strange, nameless girl sat upon the ship's side looking at Captain Lir as his ship shook once, as it completed its docking and was anchored to the Sky-Landing. He'd seen her before, a short pale skinned girl with silver hair. Her eyes were a glassy red and her cloths were made of some kind of slick plastic'y material he'd never seen before. He'd heard a few things about her, some Numerian Paradise had found during one of his ventures and taken a liking to. Now she was his Quartermaster, a decision not easily made with a crew of professional killers and the like. Women were moving some cargo from off the ship, blade-scarred chests and barrels of heavy contents. They worn dark cloths, covered with dried bloody stains. Black tattoos and marks covered their arms and some of their faces masking the scars of battle. Heavy blades and finely maintained firearms seemed to be the staple as they were strapped to hips and legs excessive number. One of the women wore a heavy looking double-breasted jacked with four bandoleers, holding 6 weighty looking pistols. She wasn't tattooed like the other women, tall and covered in scars, missing an eye and left with a split lip. The black cloth wrapped about her face gave her the appearance of a more traditional pirate, eye-patch and all. The ship's First-Mate, Demona Caldern. The Queen Anne had no male crew, aside from her captain, but Caldern was a piece of work - even among criminals. A notorious murderer, brigand, thief, and arsonist. Caldern had been captured in Andoran after a 5 year murder-spree which claimed 28 men, 21 women and 55 children. She was recorded as the nations most successful and notorious serial killer in its history - and in most nations for that matter. With an appetite for the murder and torture of young-adults and children, the reputation of the popularly named Toothfairy, became common knowledge. She collected a tooth from each of her young victims, tieing it to the end of the lanyard of her famous knife. A knife she still wore strapped to her back. The clatter of teeth made the fey cringe. Paradise had freed the lunatic from her appointment on death-row for no other reason then to add her to his motley crew - it was as if The Queen Anne's crew were Paradise's collection or sorts. A gathering of the greatest scum and villainy he could salvage from the world - all under one roof. Men in well tailored, matching working slacks and leather vests came unto the Landing and begun bringing the supplies to the large shaft which transported persons down into High-Castle. Demona leaned against the ship and looked on at the new arrivals. "Oh my. My favorite fairy has arrived." She clicked her tongue suggestively. For whatever reason, Caldern had a certain fondness for him, one he measured up as somehow relating to being called The Toothfairy, and his fey origins. She quite frequently expressed her desire to murder his crew, burn his ship, and bring him aboard The Queen Anne as her plaything... Their relationship was, very unproductive, if not somewhat volatile - she was an individual best kept at arms length. Least his neutrality with Paradise go up in smoke.

    A scurrying motion stole his attention as The Docksman, a familiar man named Freddrick Nagye came stumbling out and unto his ship, without so much as a word for permission to board. The man hugged the fey in an evidently desperate embrace. He knew the man, but they were hardly close - business associates. "Mac! Mac! Mac'y Boy! I'm so glad you're back! " He peeled himself off and immediately produced a small chest, a locked metal flask-of-a-box only 4 inches long and an inch deep. "I got myself into some trouble, Mac. It's bad - real bad. I can't tell you with who... but lets just say, I made the wrong people mad. Happens all the time, right? But not like this! I need you, Mac! I need a professional! Just take the box.... take this too." He slid out a bag from his red coat and dumped it in his hand. A bag full of platinum coins. "That's 3,000 worth of gold. Right now. And another 30,000 gold for you, and each of your friends when you get the job done. Sounds good, right? Can't pass that up, right? " The main was obviously, painfully desperate - desperate men meant trouble. "Take the box. Find Gril Peters over in The Lantern District - he'll pay you. Just take it and run. Don't stop. Don't stop for anything. People are after this thing, and they don't need to know who's holding it to find it. They'll find you - but trust me, Mac. You can't fight 'em. You can't win. You just gotta keep going - gotta out run 'em and deliver the goods. I'll even put in a good word for ya with The Big Boss. You know Mr. Warren doesn't forget a debt, ya' gotta help, you just gotta! "

    Looking at Freddrick groveling for him to run his box into Vornheim for him gave him a strange itch in the back of his mind he couldn't shake. It wasn't very far from The Sky-Landing. He didn't know what kind of trouble Fred got himself into, but whatever it was.... It couldn't have been good. In fact - he knew it had to be bad, very bad, if he was willing to pay out that much cash for a 10 minute run. He looked down at the small metal box, it had no lid, no key hole, and seemingly no way to open it. It was only marked with a strange seal, a black looking sword pointed downward. He knew that mark... The Black Brand. People disappeared when they played with things with this seal. You didn't find out why. You never found out how. They were just gone. They never came back. He looked down from the Landing into the city which dwelt beyond High-Castle, the interor of Seven Arrows, know as Vornheim. A congregation of cities divided between Inner and Outer Vornheim. The city had a distinctly Tian feel to it, at least the finer parts of Outer Vornheim did.

    He had a very-very bad feeling about this one.


    [The Hero From Afar: Kourin Alekk Mak Esh]


    He had traveled long, perhaps far too long... His hands shook, his vision cloudy. He'd flown nearly without pause from the outskirts of the Sanos Forest. The clouded massive sprawling metropolis lingered at the edge of his vision for so long, it seemed as if it had not grown any closer. Now. Finally, he came upon the city from the sky. The thick clouds and smog obscured his sight. The venture had taken a number of hard traveled days, only breaking due to exhaustion... The massive walls of Low-Castled loomed below - the sight of a large caravan entering the fortress-town was visible below. A tugging in his hand seemed to draw his attention to the gathering upon the ground, but he'd no time for that... He flew on to High-Castle. The massive tower of Sky-Landing slowly coming into a clear view. With a sudden jolt, his great vulture reeled up and landed upon the large aerial dock. It was the only method by which to land within the city - and not be gunned down. The three airships around him drew a measure of curiosity which overwhelmed his fatigue. He did not know the captain of the black-sailed ship, nor its occupants, but he could tell without a doubt they were both criminals and bad news. The former meant very little in a city of criminals, but the later was much less common. The shouts from aboard the deck closest to him revealed a familiar face - a Pathfinder... His hand tugged yet again, this time in the direction of the familiar face. A man seemed to be pleading something to the dark-creature known as Mac Lir. In this city, that was usually the first sight of brewing trouble.




    Side Quest: Run Like Hell (Mythic)

    Difficulty: (5) Extreme | Reward: (5) Unique | LoFP Challenge-Rating: (1) Challenging
    Freddrick Nagye has sought you out and is desperately pleading for you to take his employment to transport a small metal box of unknown origins. It is marked with The Black Brand, a seal only recognized by the criminal society, and inspires fear and dread in even the most hardened of crooks. Caring a Black Brand is as good as death to any man. No one knows what happens to those which have carried a Branded item, but they are never seen again. Be it standing on a stage, within a crowded room, or within a sealed vault. Something comes, and something spirits away the victims for eternity while reclaiming the marked object. It's only a short travel to Inner Vornheim, and the pay is good - but looking down at the box... You have a very bad feeling about this job.





    [The Heros Of Low-Castle: La'Min / Therin]



    Work within Low-Castle was typically pleasant. The old soldiers, groomed the young ones to take their place. Teaching them of combat, and history. Respect for The Pathfinders was always high here. A society which remembered their past, and the threats of the future. The inns and taverns were always lively, the merchants always helpful, and plenty of cheer to go around. Therin's racial disposition as a Ratfolk was of no consequence, nor was La'Min's as a Rabbitfolk - but within Vornheim, they viewed such races with scorn and cruel notions. The open and often hostile racism which plagued the common-folk of Outer Vornheim was well known - the rich Tian culture which defined the city also created with it a number of distinct and unyielding world-views. Each city within Seven-Arrows held its own customs, dress and way of speaking - but the unwelcome gestures of the refined peoples within the high parts of the inner-city were often very cruel to those of less common origins. Here in Low-Castle, or High-Castle, men were not so vain. They could see the merit of character and judge others by that character, not the color of their skin.

    The various interlocking buildings, known as The Bazaar of Steel was one of the finest gatherings of craftsmen in the whole of Seven-Arrows. Sons sent rich and pompous children to The Steel in hopes of learning a trade from a master craftsmen. The sheer volume of skill gathered in one place rivaled any other. Though the Bazaar was not so much a place of trade as it was of practice and commissioned works. Almost any handicraft could be found within the great mish-mash of schools and craft guilds. La'Min had taken to learning from Mistress Roslin, formerly a Taldorian Knight - she had turned to the arts and in crafting strange and wondrous creations of fortune and luck. Therin had worked on furthering his skill with developing alchemic items and even weapons. There were many such alchemists that had helped him in developing his craft - but the most influential had been a woman by the name if Candice Sterling. Sometimes she would appear in Low-Castle for a week or so before vanishing again. She was an older woman in her late 40s, with a soft voice and hard leathery hands. Therin had the lingering suspicion that she had some long standing occupation with less-then-savory individuals. While she specialized in poisons and healing items, she knew how to create dreadfully potent creations of a likeness he'd never seen before. Smoke pellets that could flood a floor with smog. Flash powder that could blind permanently. Ice that could not melt. She was a savant of alchemic weapons, and had become something of a mentor to him - though he suspected these gifts were employed in taking the lives of others, he didn't pry further for fear of pushing the woman away.

    The Pathfinder's gathered out side The Steel to watch the caravan come into town, many of the craftsmen from The Bazaar of Steel were now returning from Magnimar with a great many supplies in tow. The seal upon their hands pulled and tugged in the direction of the familiar faces about them. A great number of Pathfinders had seemingly returned to Seven-Arrows - a number of familiar seals visible upon the hands of those who arrived.





    Something had been set into motion. Though they could not know what, yet. It was evident - This world was changing. The things once known had begun to erode away and somewhere within Seven-Arrows lay the beginnings of the truth which would guide them to that revelation, and in time, to face it. A loud, deafening series of bells run out ever the entirety of the city. Drowning every corner, reaching into every shadow. Somewhere, someone died - shot in the back of the head. The bullet silenced by the familiar cacophony of The Great Knell. They all looked out far to the steel hands which reached out from the earth to the sky from Inner Vornheim. This was Seven-Arrows at 4:30...

    This was The City of Disquiet.





    Last edited by Mornings; 2016-01-25 at 11:35 PM.

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    Therin on this particular day was busy with his craft, the little ratfolk was constantly tinkering with his weapons and alchemical devices. He ended up getting a new toy not too long ago. A strange little device with two spikets that would funnel two different liquids into a small glass bottle. The experiment today was to combine a vial of acid with a vial of alchemist fire. A rather dangerous and volatile combination meant to inflict the maximum possible damage. Within moments of the two vials being attached to the contraption the bells began ringing.

    "Bloody hell, what now? Can'tcha see I'm workin here!" the ratfolk grumps waving a fist towards the direction of the bells. Waiting for a moment, "Though, if its somethin, could be a reward involved. Gonna have ta give them a right one-four if this isn't nothing ta do with rewards or testin out somethin's"

    Working to unhook the vials from the hybridization funnel, he stuffs them into his bandoleer and the funnel and bottle back into his bag of holding, before wandering out of the Bazaar of Steel, he blinked glancing around, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun as he took a bit to readjust to being outside. Flipping his hood up, the ratfolk began to scurry down the path trying to find a location where he could find out more of what was going on. Treasure was out there, and he was going to find it.
    Animated Spellcards from the Deck of Many Things
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    With a grunt of effort the massive reptilian heaved himself down off the massive vulture and landed with an oddly subdued whump and an extended rustling of cloth. The faintest hint of buzzing insects floated around him as ghostly wisps of flying cockroaches and flies could be seen flitting about before diving out of sight. Without the rush of air around them to carry away the smell the vulture's stench began to waft up around them and Alekk rather immediately began hoping for a bath. His eyes were unfocused from the long ride and the shakes were starting to set in, but he was well aware of the various cures he had in his pack should it become too much of a problem to deal with. He flexed his muscles, akashic power flowing through his body to reinforce his frame and augment his speed. Flickers of shadow danced around his feet and sparks of light danced from his fingertips as he stroked the mottled bald head of his vulture and cooed to it nonsensically.

    He flexed his fingers as a sensation rose in his hand as though one of the bones within was trying to leap from his flesh and he turned his gaze to the recently docked airship. He allowed a brief smile to quirk his lips, but set them back into a passive expression more fitting of the criminal metropolis. He flipped the reigns over the bird's head and used them as a lead as he approached the airship, the vulture already complaining and ready to settle down to a nap rather than be led around the Sky-Landing. As he approached the bustling airship he kept out of the way of comings and goings and did not presume to board without permissions. Instead he called out to Mac Lir, "Hail! I mean not to interrupt, but permission to come aboard from an old colleague?"

    Spoiler: Action Notes
    Show
    If the fatigue of riding is actually enough to cause a stat debuff, he'll down a potion of lesser restoration.


    Spoiler: Essence
    Show
    Veils: Capacity 2 [+1 for one] DCs 11+E+Int. 11 Essence Total.
    [2] Riven Darts: X darts that deal 1d4+Xd4, no more than 2 darts per target. 20ft Ranged Touch as Standard
    [0] Pestilence Cloak: 20% Miss Chance vs Range and Melee, Will Disbelief DC [16], Fly Clumsy 5+5Xft
    [2] Ditchdigger Armlets: Full Round Act to create 10x10 difficult terrain, deals 1d6+Xd6 damage. 1d4 round cooldown
    [1] Stalker's Tabi: +2+2X Acrobatics&Stealth

    Feats:
    [1] Akashic Augmentation: Chose a power. Cost is -X, only applies to Augments, can't reduce extra cost below 1. Can't invest more than power level
    -Power Selected: Natural Healing

    Racial:
    [2] Speed: +10ft*X land speed.
    [2] Natural Armor: +X Natural Armor
    [1] Spines: Two 1d4 Spine attacks as primary natural weapons. Every odd after 1 adds +1 Enhancement

    Charged Items:
    [0] Wand of Lesser Restoration
    [0] Wand of Cure Light Wounds
    [0] Wand of Invisibility
    Never can find my towel...

    So it goes.

    GNU Terry Pratchett
    Forgot who did my avatar, sorry! >.<

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    He stood there contemplating whether it was worth the risk and trouble that came with the Job. He knew that if he completed it then he would have enough money to finish outfitting his ship and could also afford better food for the crew. Then there was the fact that he was known for taking slightly insane jobs and always completing them, Maybe this was why Freddrick came to him. He thought hard about it and decided that the Pay and the Debt he would get out of it deemed the job to be one worth the risk.

    "This is going to difficult on my own, Man where is good help when you need it."

    Standing there contemplating the job He heard someone call out to come aboard, He looked over wondering who it could be and was happy to see his colleague & friend Alekk standing there waiting to come onto his ship.


    "Alekk good to see you, your always welcome on my ship. Let my crew stow your bird and come over here I have a job that I could use someones help with."
    Last edited by forg99rules; 2016-01-25 at 08:29 PM.

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    Alekk smiles warmly for a moment before a loud 'Waaaark!' from beside him causes his to tug on the reins and his stoic expression returns as he begins walking up the gangplank. He brings two fingers of his free hand to his temples in an odd salute to his fellow Pathfinder and lowers his voice to a more conversational tone, "And for that I am in your debt. I'm not bad on the back of the bird while we're in flight, but he's a bloody fright while having to handle him on the ground." As he speaks, however, a strange pulse echoes within Mac Lir's own head. It does not seem like a mental assault, but a soft pressure that resonates from the same point on his head as the place where Alekk touched his temple. Once on deck he'll hand off the reins of the great bird to whomever comes to take hold of the reigns, "Bloody thing doesn't seem to understand it doesn't need to eat with that ring I got it either, so I'm just glad to still have all my fingers." The mental ping resonates again as Alekk looks over the man Mac was talking to, punctuating the word private, "And here I thought we'd have a private conversation, but no matter. Who is your friend here, then?"
    Never can find my towel...

    So it goes.

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    Forgot who did my avatar, sorry! >.<

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    Quote Originally Posted by Tian Xiaomiao's Dreams
    “Daddy!”

    The girl was trotting up the twisting mountain path as if walking atop an open road. She was no more than four years of age – wearing a loosely-fitting set of tunics and woolen pants along with a pair of plain hempen shoes. Though the girl didn’t look like a noble of any sort, she was well-known within Wudang mountains as the princess of the Tianmen Sect – her father, along with six others – occupy the coveted position of righteous sect leader, and enjoy a sort of status both in Wudang and in the nearby Quain kingdom as masters without peer, equally magnanimous as they are devoted to their arts.

    “Daddy! I’m back!” she shouted a second time, waving to a middle-aged man sitting at the gate of the first training yard, who waved

    “Ah, Xiaomiao! You are early today. What manner of spirit has possessed you, to be so excited about training with your old man?”

    The girl made a face at her father. In her hands, she was clutching a pair of crudely made wooden figures.

    “Daddy, Lusong came over again. We told him he couldn’t play with us ‘cuz his sect is a demon cult, but he kept on saying that we’re wrong and that he would prove to us that his daddy is right.”

    “Oh?” The man had a thoughtful expression on his face. “What did you tell him?”

    “I told him that demons aren’t welcome to play with us righteous kids, and that he would have to get through us if he wanted to corrupt our younger brothers!” The girl smirked, as if she had accomplished something great and is immensely proud of himself. “Xiarong and Meiwu told him this too, but Lusong got angry and told us that we are just exclusioning him because our daddies hate his daddy. Xiarong tried to beat him up, but he wasn't strong enough! Lusong got real mad and knocked Xiarong down and tried to hit Meiwu and me too!”

    “And?”

    “And…and I saved everyone! I used my Sanyu Strike like you taught me, daddy, and vanquished Lusong just like that. He fell down and coughed blood in one punch! He was real mad and said I would be sorry, but then Xiarong’s daddy came out and told him to never bother us again.” The girl beamed for a moment, then opened her hands and displayed the wooden figures before her father. “Lusong dropped these too when he ran. I think one of them was the demon founder of the Moon and Stars Cult but I don’t know. He dropped more too, but Xiarong and Meiwu took most of them. Do you know what these are, daddy?”

    The middle-aged man grabbed one of the figures. He seemed to be in deep thought for a moment; then, handing the figure back to his daughter, he replied in a somber tone. “Xiaomiao, my daughter, do you know about the demon hunt of three centuries past?”

    “Of course! There isn’t a single person who doesn’t know that! That’s when my great-great-great-grandpa and the great-great-great-grandpas of the other kids went and protected Quain from a massive dragon-demon from the far-away lands! Daddy, is this a history test? You know that I spend three whole hours a day on my studies!”

    “No, daughter. Well…when your great-great-great-grandfather…no, during the founding of our Wudang mountains, the ancestors of our seven righteous clans weren’t the only ones there. There were actually twelve masters, and Lusong’s ancestor – the patriarch of the Moon and Stars Sect…”

    “Then, daddy, are you saying that Lusong was not a demon? Was I wrong to have beaten him up like that?” The girl stared inquisitively at her father, as if ready to burst into tears. Her father stared at the wooden carving for a moment; then, putting it away, he lightly patted his daughter’s head and gave her an approving smile.

    “No, Xiaomiao. What you did was correct. You were brave to have protected the other kids against Lusong.”
    I promise that I’ll make you proud, dad. I’ll train hard and be the best martial artist in the world, and have all of Quain bow to our sect, and even Xiarong’s family will be jealous of us. And Lusong will never dare to hurt any of our junior brothers ever again.

    The girl seemed to be mumbling. Slumped alone in the back of a wagon made for five, she had a rather silly expression on her face – her mouth was transfixed permanently into a wide grin as a visible trail of drool trickled down her chin, landing slowly on her garments. The girl was obviously not from any part of the Inner Sea regions; she had yellow skin, jet-black hair that hung loosely into an undrawn red hood, and a particularly ovular face that clashed with the more angular countenances of the city. She had a rather slender body marred by a small number of scars, though it remained hidden as she clutched her travelling bag before her chest, as if it was some sort of a stuffed animal for a child half her age.

    I…er, what?” As the wagon came to a halt, the girl suddenly became alert. She dropped her bag briefly, her eyes scanning the area while she fought off a slowly-forming yawn. “This…is this Seven Arrows? So, we’re here?” she mumbled sleepily, relaxed, then shot a pensive glance at the wagon-owner. “Hey, I didn’t say anything weird in my sleep, did I? …I did, didn’t I? Well, um, many thanks for the ride. Um, I’ll just leave the fare on the seat and excuse myself before I embarrass myself any further, yes?

    Without waiting for an answer, she dropped a few coins on the wagon seat and covered her face with her cloak, scurrying into the gates of the great city.

    Seven Arrows was a familiar sight to her, even as an outsider from a land known to many as but a fanciful children’s tale. Since that incident six years ago when Raph'æl Vosper first found her shipwrecked and starving at the edge of the Varisian peninsula, she had toured these lands extensively and lent her hand to everyone who needed help following the calamity – as a Pathfinder, and oftentimes, to spread her own name. She had visited the city countless times during that interim; it is, after all, a city that surpassed even Magnimar as the jewel of the Varisian plains, built by the great hero himself. For a fallen princess of the martial arts world seeking to revive her father’s style in the Inner Seas, there was no greater place than Seven Arrows to spread her wings.

    The city was filled with its own wonders; some, she would have never dreamed of had she not seen them with her own eyes. For a moment, then, the skies from afar dimmed as a behemoth swallowed the sun in its magnificent maws, and the girl lazily turned toward the sky, watching the monstrous machine split the heavens with drowsy eyes and a broad grin. “That must be his ship,” she mused, studying the airship as it disappeared into the city as if it belonged to a long-time friend. She thought about the first moment she laid eyes on The Morrigan in the company of its captain – a fellow Pathfinder and acquaintance of Raph’el Vosper. Her expression then must have been priceless – the face of a naïve young girl who could never, in a millennia, imagine that such a thing could ever have existed in her little facsimile of the world.

    She retrieved a few pieces of confectionery from her pockets, and put the airship out of her mind for now. Her attention was held by the massive spectacle at the ramparts of the Low-Castle gates. Two of her peers had returned with her, and she greeted them with a warm but lazy smile; with it, she noticed that eyes of the gate’s soldiers were on them as they cheered and made a merry scene of themselves. The girl laughed sheepishly, wiping a still-remaining trail of drool from her lips as she stood in more proper posture, stashing her candy away from their sight. She was expecting a quiet entrance into the city, and wondered what the veteran soldiers thought of her – a supposed new champion of the Society – sleep-talking like a child while slumped on a merchant wagon, in a manner completely unbecoming of an up-and-coming “hero”.

    Whatever their thoughts were, their merrymaking suddenly died, and their eyes became fixated on a single figure approaching the Low-Castle gates. Xiaomiao glanced at the approaching gypsy with some interest; she faintly recognized Mayli Artel from the old stories of Taldor that she would occasionally borrow from Venture Captain Heidmarch’s libraries. Her final battle at Taldor was the subject of many stories and plays, though they were nine years too early and five nations removed from Xiaomiao’s still-shallow knowledge of Avistan. She rarely visited nations outside of Varisia, and to her, the battle may as well be the mythical adventures of Whitebeard the Legendary Pirate, as fantasies far removed from her own little facsimile of the world.

    Mayli was supposed to be dead, or so she had heard. Perhaps, like the airships that flew in the sky and the deeds of her own mentor, this was simply another one of the strange wonders of the inner sea regions. Turning to her fellow pathfinders – Mason and Stredexon – she whispered with a faint giggle:

    If we come here again tomorrow, maybe we’ll see Aordan himself casually striding into Seven Arrows.
    Last edited by Felyndiira; 2016-01-26 at 01:24 AM. Reason: Editing out grammar and structural issues.

  7. - Top - End - #7
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    Spoiler: Stredexon Physical Appearance
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    Nearly six and a half feet tall and of average build, Stredexon is usually one to stand out a bit in an average crowd. His short platinum blonde hair gives off a slight glow in the sunlight, casing him to sometimes stand out like a sore thumb. Unlike your average Aasimar, his face possesses very avian features and is very gaunt with a somewhat hooked nose. His clothing is carefully made from various hides and leathers and is mostly concealed beneath his dark maroon duster. A pointed hat with a wide brim hides his short hair. Slung over his shoulder is his trusty rifle. The weapon which had seen him through the last 20 years, partnered with the grenade launcher on his hip, that pair of weapons was instrumental in the defense of Sandpoint up until its destruction. However, all but his hat and rifle are kept out of sight by the large cloak, weighted with several pounds of explosive munitions. The back of the cloak is embroidered proudly with the old flag of the sandpoint citadel.


    "If that happens, I'll eat my hat." the leather-clad gunman mutters. Unlike Xiaomao who had a nice relaxing trip in a wagon, he'd spent his trip to Seven Arrows flying high in the air, held aloft by the gifts of his mother's side. Something most people envy when they don't understand the realities of collisions with birds or the taste of half a swarm of flying insects. This was a taste Dex was eager to wash out of his mouth with some sweet wine from a local tavern. "I've heard a few stories from my father about her. In fact he claimed to have..." he stops himself short for but a moment as he remembers the company he is in before mentioning one of his father's lecherous claims "...mmmmmmet her personally on a few occasions. She's supposed to be dead though."
    The Swallowfield Children - Stredexon Intwisca

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    Mac smiled as he watched Alekk come up the gangplank with his Bird, seeing an Old Friend again made him happy as he recently had lost one of his good friends in Riddleport during his last job.

    It should have been a simple job really but nothing ever is with Williams, He had hired me to smuggle him out of the city but he was late for our scheduled meeting at the docks. I was terribly worried that something had gone wrong. Normally i wouldn't have to wait this long for Williams to show up he is almost always early and this had me really worried. I decided that i would venture into town and see if i could find him at his shop.

    Some people might have issues traversing the streets of Riddleport but not me i have had several jobs here and plenty of more times than that have had to outrun the guards or gangs in the area. So i knew what streets were safe and what ones to stray from. Williams shop may have not seemed like much as it was built in a burned down home of some Low Noble but it worked for him seeing as the house had a basement that hadn't taken any damage from the fire.

    As i neared where his Shop was i took notice that a lot of the peddlers and gang members were keeping their heads lower than normal for most people in there profession. This set off some bells in my head and i decided that the best way to find out without actually getting into eye sight of his shop was to ask one of the Peddlers what was going on in the area.

    As i looked around to pick the best person to ask i couldn't help but worry that i already knew the answer and that Williams had made an enemy or two that decided to take him out.

    I spotted a little girl who was tucked away in a side alley and decided that she would be the best person to ask. As i neared the girl i pulled a couple of gold pieces out of my pocket and offered them to her. "Hey Girl, I got 3 gold pieces for you to tell me what is going on in the area". She lifted her head up and from the look in her eyes i could tell that she was worried i was going to do something to her. "Don't worry i'm not going to hurt you i just want some information about a friend of mine". The little girl relaxed a little and then asked me what i wanted to know. "My friend is a Fence that lives just up the street in the Basement of the burned down house, Have you heard any news about him". Hey eyes go wide and she takes off running screaming something about how she doesn't know anything and didn't see what happened. This set off more sirens in my head and i knew that he had screwed up. But none the less i needed to see for myself.

    I took some more Sketchy back alleys that would lead me near his shop and would set me up to be able to see his shop without anyone else being able to see me. As i looked around the corner and saw the entrance to the grounds it reiterated that he had ****ed up hard, There was at least 3 different gangs guarding the entrance to his shop and none of them should have been in this area.

    That did it for me so I took off as quick as i could back to my ship so that i could get out of this hell hole. As i came out onto the docks i noticed an odd person waiting near my ship and i started to feel even more worried that this had something to do with the problems that Williams had run into. I walked up to the woman "Can i help you with something?", She didn't reply at all to me instead all she did was hold out a Black Envelope. As soon as i took the envelope from her she turned and left without saying a single word.

    Well as they say Curiosity killed the cat, I opened the envelope and read its contents, It was a Summons from none other than Raph'ael himself. I know knew where i was going, Back to Seven Arrows.

    Noticing the odd Salute that Alekk gave made him wonder what was going on and so did the strange pulse in his head. "Scold go ahead and take his Bird down bellow, Give it a bath and some food while your at it." Normally i don't call my crew by their last name but given how odd everything was i felt the need to send a signal to my crew, to let them know that i will be going and that it was dangerous.

    Alexis was talking to Gene about supplies, She was requesting supplies, something other than Trail Rations as they had ran out of actual food before they had hit Riddleport and due to them having to leave so suddenly that they hadn't had time to restock. Her captain called out to Eldrith using her last name and immediately she knew that **** had just hit the fan. He never uses his crews last names unless it is a dire circumstance and from what she overheard and the arrival of Alekk it must have been. "Gene just make me a list and we will get what you need, now Excuse me i need to tell Hikil to prepare the Ship in case we need to make a quick get away again." She walked away and headed down into the depths of the ship to find Hikil.

    Eldrith was busy tallying what cargo they still had after their hasty retreat from Riddleport, The captain hadn't said why they left in such a hurry but if she was more of a betting girl she would put her money on it being because of that odd woman that had waited for him at the docks. She heard the Captain call out for her but for some reason he used her last name instead of her first or his nickname for her. She turned and looked noticing that Mr. Mak was heading onto the ship with his Bird, She headed over to take it from him. "Mr. Mak just because he doesn't need to eat doesn't mean he he doesn't want to, Even animals enjoy eating good food. Now here let me take him for you and i will give him a bath and some food so he doesn't give us anymore fuss" Eldrith reached out and took hold of the reins that Mr. Mak was holding and cooed to the Bird and she led it below for its bath and food.

    Seeing that the Bird was getting taken care of Mac returned the odd salute allowing whatever this pulse was to continue entering his mind. Immediately he felt a connection linking him and Alekk together. "Alekk this here is Freddrick, he works for Mr. Warren and has just offered me a job of sorts." "You wanted to speak in private?"

  9. - Top - End - #9
    Bugbear in the Playground
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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    "Then, it's settled." Xiaomiao turned back to the long-dead woman with a thoughtful expression on her face, in direct contrast to the somber and fearful mood of the onlookers around them. She knew why she was summoned to Seven Arrows - she had read that black letter about twenty times during her voyage to the city, and the mission, as well as the significance of the two fellow Pathfinders beside her, were not lost to the girl. Still, she wore a faint smile when she turned back to her companions, addressing them in her usual, chipper tone. "Our aim is to make Dexie eat his hat, so tomorrow, we'll find some way to raise Aordan and drag him into these gates. If one legend has already been revived so easily, it can't be so hard to revive another, yes? Are you in, Mason?"

    She waited for a moment, then giggled.

    "I'm just kidding, of course," The girl glanced at the Aasimar to ensure that she did not offend him. She only knew Stredexon professionally, as a fellow pathfinder and a fellow understudy of Raph'el when he was still around as the aloof head of the Society - and wasn't sure if her brand of humor would match his tastes. "By the way, you look a bit worn-out," she added with a worried look. "You didn't travel here manually, no? There are plenty of merchant wagons you could have hitched a ride on for less than one gold. As a plus, there's the beautiful scenery to the city. The parts that weren't destroyed six years ago, at least...well, even those ruins had a sort of beauty in their own way. I highly recommend trying it sometime."

    Xiaomiao reached into her pockets and produced a pair of marble-sized confectionery, which she offered to his compatriots as she continued her chattering, unabated by the mood of her companions. "Here, I've found that sweets are a good way to wash off the sour tastes of a long journey on the open road. Now, you were talking about your father's 'meeting' with the legendary, long-dead siren from Taldor, yes?"
    Last edited by Felyndiira; 2016-02-05 at 04:14 PM. Reason: I've officially established the nickname "Dexie" in later posts, so correcting this one to match.

  10. - Top - End - #10
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    RogueGirl

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    La'Min had been diligently tending the forge, attending the tasks left for her by Mistress Roslin. She held up her newest creation for appraisal. It was a Jingasa crafted of fine-hammered steel and inlaid with traditional depictions of luck. It featured a twin set of slits to accommodate her ears, as feature she was quite proud to have added to the design herself."It's beautiful! I love it!" She thought as she turned it in the light so that she could look upon every inch of detail, and smiled as she set it upon her head. It fit perfectly and she was pleased- she couldn't wait to show Mistress Roslin when she returned.

    Her smile faded the second the bells rang out, and she winced as they rang out so unexpectedly. Her ears drooped down in an attempt to shield themselves from the vociferous sound. Her hands instinctively released the hammer she'd been holding and clamped tightly over all that she could cover. The sound of the dropped hammer clanging against the anvil was drowned out by the penetrating ringing of the bells. She found her attempts to shield herself from the sound were futile as her ears were much too long, and the sound was much too loud. Over the course of minutes she began to adjust, though her ears were left ringing unpleasantly. She ventured to the window and peered outside while gently massaging them in an attempt to stop the ringing. "I wish they'd have a better alarm system.. " she said to the room at large. It was then that she noticed the tugging of the seal upon her hand. She followed its pull with her eyes, glancing out of the window. "Alright, alright!" She said, retrieving Song of Mountains from its perch beside the bolted door and heaving it over her shoulder as she unlatched the door and swung it open. She stepped out, closing the door behind her until she heard the familiar "click." There seem so many.. What's going on? I hope someone knows, I don't want to be left in the dark... she thought to herself as she headed towards the first gaggle of onlookers she had seen from the window. She didn't know any of them, of course, but she didn't know most people anyway. Perhaps she would make friends, and perhaps they knew the reason for the alarm. One way or the other, she was going to find out- they did have the same seal she did, afterall. "Do you know why the bells went off?" She asked of whomever was nearest.
    Fii Starling:
    5 inch Pixie, Rogue, Chosen of the God of Luck- Greater Invisibility at will. She's given "stealth" a new meaning. Her feats gave her a winged, chaotic, panda familar. Her run ins with a deck of many things have left her with a merged rapier and orb of storms. Her sneak attacks pack a punch.
    Did I mention... first. EVER. DnD character.
    Thank you great DM...
    ... and Fii loots the room.

  11. - Top - End - #11
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    As luck would have it "Sorry love, haven't the foggiest. Just came here like ya did. In it for tha reward ta? Perhaps we should stick together." The small ratfolk grinned a little giving a small wave up to her.

    Therin was drabbed in his usual cloak, a faint scent of alchemical herbs wafting off of him, particularly lavander, gunpowered and just a hint of mint, a far cry from most ratfolk who stunk of filth and plague, especially in the outer regions.

    "Shall we investigate a bit further, love?" he began trudging along ducking and weaving through crowds of gagglers to get a bit closer to someone of more authority.
    Animated Spellcards from the Deck of Many Things
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    Whatever it is that La'Min expected of a ratfolk, this one defied her expectations. He was polite, and he smelled nice to her. Honestly, it made her feel a bit relaxed, though it was probably just the lavender. She quickly timed her step to keep up with his and not surpass his pace. "Reward? What reward? Is there a challenge I should be aware of? And do you know anyone who might know?" Her new friend seemed mysterious to her, but strangely trustworthy. Again, that may have just been the lavender. She didn't smell quite as nice as he, for she smelled of pungent garlic- the better to keep vampires at bay. She was careful with her footing as she was mindful not to step upon a crack in the walkway. As she followed him, her mind was busying itself with trying to catch up to the situation. "I was training under Mistress Roslin.. I have a personal challenge I'm working on.. I'm going to break the sound barrier.. but it's far off, and I'm going to need all the luck I can get..so I've been forging some. I wouldn't shy away from treasure, though, if there were any- what treasure?" It seemed this man knew more than she, and even if he didn't, he seemed good company. He didn't seem to be involved in anything she considered shady- no magic, anyway, as far as she could tell. "Maybe my Jingasa has been lucky already.. how wonderful!" she thought to herself, adjusting her hat subconsciously.
    Last edited by Fii; 2016-01-26 at 05:10 PM.
    Fii Starling:
    5 inch Pixie, Rogue, Chosen of the God of Luck- Greater Invisibility at will. She's given "stealth" a new meaning. Her feats gave her a winged, chaotic, panda familar. Her run ins with a deck of many things have left her with a merged rapier and orb of storms. Her sneak attacks pack a punch.
    Did I mention... first. EVER. DnD character.
    Thank you great DM...
    ... and Fii loots the room.

  13. - Top - End - #13
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    "It isn't as farfetched as you might think. I've met a few clergymen in my life who have claimed their god has granted them the ability to return the dead to life. It was something I looked into not long after my father had passed. The problem, they told me, was that there was was a window of only a few days after death that one could be brought back and that if the deceased had succumbed to old age or certain magics, then there was no way to bring them back." He punctuates his short tale by picking a few feathers out of his hat which had come from an earlier birdstrike.

    "I was kind of in a hurry to get home. Half a day's travel by air beats three or four days travel on a wagon. Plus the last time I traveled with merchants, we hit a large bump and I wound up reeking of spices and exotic perfumes for weeks." The annoyed adult face Dex had kept while describing his journey fell apart as he was offered the candy. He eyeballs it for a moment like a child with too little pocket money before snatching it and popping it in his mouth. His lips and eyes snap shut as he takes a moment to savor the taste. Dex lets out a short contented sigh before speaking with the candy still housed in one of his cheeks.

    "Wehr...'e wasn't sho rong-dead back 'en. 'ad ran into 'heir 'raverring 'avern moh an onsh." with a final slurp, he swallows the rest of the confection and clears his throat. "His work had him travelling a lot and he fancied himself a ladies' man. The short version of most of their encounters is that she apparently like hearing his embellished stories. 'The Tales of the Legendary Gunhand, Ivan Ivanovich Ivnovsky' he would call them. Old guy could make a bard sound like an alderman."
    The Swallowfield Children - Stredexon Intwisca

  14. - Top - End - #14
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    Sitting at the front of a wagon that was entering the tiered metropolis of Seven Arrows was a nimble looking fellow in a slightly glowing white cloak, looking forward into the towering buildings of the complex city. Despite the neutral look on the man's face, emotions and memories, combined with some heavy telepathic banter filled his head.

    To many, the city was a place of opportunity, residence, and wealth. To some, it was a place of nothing but fear and poverty. To others, it was just another city. To Mason, it was something in between all of those, for Seven Arrows was like a home to him and his sister, but a home with the dried blood of a victim splattered across the walls. It said quite a bit that a homecoming son was glancing left and right in paranoia, hoping to avoid the sight of those who ran the streets. The Black Skulls...

    Even now, the vision of his hurried escape from the city as a far weakened version of himself, grabbing the body of his sister and a blade forged with a good chunk of his potential arcane power was harsh to his emotional composure. But of this, he mentioned nothing. He mentioned nothing to the Pathfinders that sat behind him, who he should've told what danger they could fall into by travelling with him. But, for some reason, he didn't. It wasn't malice, but since his sister's death, he didn't know what he was feeling.

    "You're an edgy little twonk, honestly. We're home, and nobody's gonna screw with us. Fath- he wants out help, and we're gonna pay him back. And you know that no flapjack has a pig's chance in hell to stop us, Black Skulls or not."

    "Right, Val, right."

    Mason's thoughts were interrupted by the halting of the cart, and the exclaimed awakening of the female Pathfinder behind him, bringing him back to normality. Slowly, he shifted his body to look at the others, as they got off the cart, and quipped "Home, I'd say. Vosper had better have been well-reasoned for this."

    As they moved through the crowd, Mason's paranoid glances brought his eyes to the entrance of something that should've been less than alive, around the same time as Xiaomiao brought it to the group's attention. "Well, pull my hair, that's-"

    "The Champion of Desna, Dawnhammer, whatever you want to call her, that there is Mayli Artel, fresh and with a lack of decomposing."

    This was certainly a development, and while he did not have the reaction of the crowd that surrounded the return of the lady, he was suspicious. Ironically enough, he of all people felt that the return of the dead was the sign of something going wrong, no matter what the context or method used.

    When he turned his attention back to his compatriots, he glanced at the sweet that Xiaomiao was offering, and remarked, with a slightly sour face, "No, thank you. I'm not a sweets person, although..." with a glance over to Dex "Dex certainly seems to be. In any case, whether or not she died or not, and whether or not she could've been brought back isn't quite as note-worthy as the fact that she's back. Divine intervention, or something else with some big consequences, both of which are events that mean serious business. What do you all think we should do?"

    "Here we go, Mason the Spineless all over again. Just go up to the chick, stop faffing about and asking these buggers for their opinion, and Braum's your uncle!"

    "Look, Val, we've got plenty of things to be worried about in Seven Arrows, and 'faffing' about is exactly what I don't wanna do, so I'm asking them. And who in Evard's name is Braum?"

    "Wha- Yo- Whatever, some Andoran you are."
    Last edited by NuclearCommando; 2016-01-26 at 06:48 PM.
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  15. - Top - End - #15
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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    Quote Originally Posted by Fii View Post
    Whatever it is that La'Min expected of a ratfolk, this one defied her expectations. He was polite, and he smelled nice to her. Honestly, it made her feel a bit relaxed, though it was probably just the lavender. She quickly timed her step to keep up with his and not surpass his pace. "Reward? What reward? Is there a challenge I should be aware of? And do you know anyone who might know?" Her new friend seemed mysterious to her, but strangely trustworthy. Again, that may have just been the lavender. She didn't smell quite as nice as he, for she smelled of pungent garlic- the better to keep vampires at bay. She was careful with her footing as she was mindful not to step upon a crack in the walkway. As she followed him, her mind was busying itself with trying to catch up to the situation. "I was training under Mistress Roslin.. I have a personal challenge I'm working on.. I'm going to break the sound barrier.. but it's far off, and I'm going to need all the luck I can get..so I've been forging some. I wouldn't shy away from treasure, though, if there were any- what treasure?" It seemed this man knew more than she, and even if he didn't, he seemed good company. He didn't seem to be involved in anything she considered shady- no magic, anyway, as far as she could tell. "Maybe my Jingasa has been lucky already.. how wonderful!" she thought to herself, adjusting her hat subconsciously.

    "Break the sound barrier ya say? Wouldn't that turn ya inside out? Would be a right bloody shame there, love. As for the reward, wouldn't know just yet. Bells ain't ringing for the time, which means something bad happened. Bad things often mean a reward to stop bad thing."

    The ratfolk shrugs softly, adjusting a little. Glancing around for information. "Name's Therin Dasher, a pathfinder."
    Animated Spellcards from the Deck of Many Things
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  16. - Top - End - #16
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    La'Min couldn't imagine what it'd feel like to be turned inside out, and shuddered at the very thought. "...Luck willing, that wouldn't happen.. but yes, I wish to beak the sound barrier.. " She trailed off a bit, unable to get the gruesome image out of her head. For good measure, she began to turn in seven clockwise circles, counting each successful spin aloud."1..2.......6...7!" She let out a relieved sigh once she'd completed her circles, as though she'd really dodged a bullet there. "I'm La'Min, also a pathfinder.. Let's see about finding out more about this 'bad stuff' that happened.. " She said, clutching her holy symbol tightly.
    Last edited by Fii; 2016-01-26 at 11:04 PM.
    Fii Starling:
    5 inch Pixie, Rogue, Chosen of the God of Luck- Greater Invisibility at will. She's given "stealth" a new meaning. Her feats gave her a winged, chaotic, panda familar. Her run ins with a deck of many things have left her with a merged rapier and orb of storms. Her sneak attacks pack a punch.
    Did I mention... first. EVER. DnD character.
    Thank you great DM...
    ... and Fii loots the room.

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)



    Part I: Seven Arrows
    Main Quest: The Witch of Undercity
    Difficulty: (3) Medium | Reward: (2) Low | LoFP Challenge-Rating: (0) None
    Raph'æl has gone into hiding. At his summons you have returned to the great city of Seven-Arrows. In search of the elusive Bechal Rossfield, Raph'æl's contemporary enemy and bitter rival - you set off in search of the faceless Witch of Undercity; Gal'bertel S'Sisery. While no one knows what S'Sisery looks like, it is no mystery as to where he dwells: Now each of you make for Romere's Tower, a heavily guarded mechanical-wonder which wandered about thickly crowded Lantern District. Possessing within it the only gate into Undercity. The Warren Trading Company closely manages all traffic in and out of the gate. Entering would prove no problem, but emerging from the city again would be another matter entirely...

    Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 4:34 PM / AR 4732
    Capital of Varisia; The City of Seven-Arrows
    District: Low-Castle; - Outside Vornheim





    [The Heros Of Low-Castle: La'Min / Therin / Xiaomiao / Mason / Stredexon]




    The sudden sound of rushing footsteps and jostling armor upon the ramparts caused an unexpected stir. Therin did not see his master among the caravaning traders and returning craftsmen. A number of the proud looking D'Aritel Knights stood upon their transports to look over the rear of their heavy wagons with hands leveling to leather-wrapped hilts of polished steel. A silence filled the plaza of Low-Castle, as if everyone suddenly held their breath, waiting, listening - Bu'THUMP - Cu'thump. The smog was thick and obscured the vision of the guards - the wagons blocked all view from outside the gate to those below the ramparts, but it was no mystery - something was coming at great speeds. Something large.

    A call from above cried out, "HOOOOOLD!" The Sparrows had already ran from the bastion at Gate Helna, the gateway to High-Castle and charged down the ramparts unslinging their longrifles as they went. The elite order of Musketeers was peerless and unnaturally frightening in their degree of precision with their weapons. The snipers could easily pick off criminals from nearly anywhere within the city when posted upon Sky-Landing. Shots made from thousands of feet, through wind and smog. Their rifles were finely tuned, but not ornate or possessing of any unusual devices or magical assistance - a fact which only added to their prestige. The finely dressed Musketeers took posts upon the wall. One young man who wore a wide brimmed hat adorned with a large feather, lifted up his silver rifle, glaring down the iron-sights before just as quickly dropping the weapon. "HOLD - WAGON!" The guards leered over the wall, trying to see through the smoke, the crash and rattle of rushing wheels became audible. The merchants begun boarding their chariots, horses and wagons, trying to move from the gate. The vision from outside the gate became visible. The Sparrow with the distinguishing hat looked down his rifle once again before crying out. "...Gate. GATE - CLOSE THE GATE!" A vision of dancing light in the distance came into view, cries echoing off in the distance - screams. The guards sprung into motion, running towards the large iron wheels of chains, cranking away.

    The wagon finally came into view. A black horseless carriage engulfed in flame, wildy crashing forward. A man stood atop the burning vehicle, covered in deathly wounds, but laughing madly at the sky as he clung to some massive blade of stone which penetrated the inflamed wagon. Another man, engulfed in flame and shirtless, hung from the side of the out-of-control flaming cart firing carelessly with a revolver into a horde of abysmal writhing decaying hands. The gate quickly begun closing, far more quickly then the great 500ft tall doors would suggest. The Sparrows leveled their weapons. "KILL THE DEAD. LEAVE THE LIVING. FIRE!" A broadside volley of munitions ripped through the storm of writhing, re-animated corpse-parts. The gate creeped forward the last 6ft - threatening to close in the wild band's face. They didn't slow. They couldn't slow. There was no reins. There was no horses.

    The wooden-black burning car crashed at full force into the ajar stone doors - exploding into flaming splinters. It's passengers were cast violently into the air. The man on the side was flattened against the outside of the gate as it crushed closed, while the man atop the wagon was catapulted head-long, still wildly laughing as if driven mad. A shadowy figure from within the destroyed van flew out into a tight but controlled side-long flip, spinning sharply before landing on her feet and continuing forward in a calm gait. In stark contrast, the insane-creature - the painted man, covered in gory open lacerations spun in a terrible and violent uncontrollable twist of limbs, still clinging to the absurdly sized stone sword. He crashed into the muck and mud, once. With a sharp crack, landing on an arm. Bounding up again, exploding through a Magnimarian merchant's carriage, and landing on his head as his body flipped over itself in a sickening display. The sword, fallen from his grasp, flipped in air and came crashing down onto him, landing with a disgusting splatter which sprayed upon the nearby traders. A silence chocked the onlookers, before finally a woman screamed out in terror while covering her face.

    Guards stormed down into into the plaza, the cowled woman didn't cease her stride, before finally looking up at the disturbed on-lookers. The first time her face was visible - a number of gasps of recognition. To La'Min, the face did seem slightly familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd seen the figure - but for Therin, it was quite different, he knew her, though it was not the kind and soft-featured face he had come to know. His inclinations had been somewhat somewhat off-the-mark. The person before him was no assassin - the many seals adorning her six blades all carried with them very distinct and identical seals which were quite unmistakable. The Cheliaxian-conflicted cult, The Keepers of The Altruistic Watch. She was a Devil-Hunter.

    A Devil-Hunter known as Candice Sterling

    ***


    Candice muscled her way past the guardsmen who were at a loss of how to proceed. "Out of my way. This is business of The Altruistic Watch." The armed men stepped aside sheepishly - Fear of the Priests and Inquisitors was very real for those within Seven-Arrows. The strange, seemingly unexplainable events which had begun to enthral the world seemed to have no logical answers within the realms of science and arcana - but the godsmen provided them answers, and purged threats from the heart of civilized lands. Within Seven-Arrows this duty carried with it, a certain authority which weighed much more then it truly should have. Priests were not beyond the corruption of coin - though Inquisitors were another story, and were feared because of it. Even by the rich and powerful. They were perhaps the single element within the city which the great Crime Lords could not hope to control.

    Walking up to the corpse that had been bludgeoned face-first into the ground, she planted her boot on the massive stone sword, kicking it aside with a great deal of effort. The body suddenly twitched, spasmed, then begun to move... The man pulled his awkwardly twisted head from the ground. Though his long black hair cover his face, it was rather evident his skull was facing an extra 60 degrees-or-so in the wrong direction. With a sickening pop, he re-adjusted it with his broken hand which dangled midway at his forearm. He was hunched over, as if trying to look at something upon the ground. Very little of his skin was left uncovered in a thick white paint, or unburned. While his wounds did bleed, they did not sprew blood uncontrollably as one might think. The wounds were grevious and fatal. Dark bruising from internal bleeding, broken ribs. Flayed skin hung from his back and his limbs were lacerated and torn. He cackled in a low menacing volume. "Oh yes, yes, yes. The Father has blessed this one. Twice. Thrice. And more. Oh yes." He snapped up his head to look at Sterling with a bloodied smile, his eyes were rolled back into his skull, as if in trace. "...And you. That you live. Hehe. You live, and my Brother's walk in glory to Abaddon. Truly The Father knows wisdom beyond me. Very well, Inquisitor, I will serve." Candice spoke from between her teeth in obvious disgust of the twisted-man - his face was splattered and painted in white and black. A Black Skull - Mason's eye's widened in terror. Not just any Black Skull. Perhaps the most violent and radical of the deathcult, second only to Menace. A Black Skull known as Edge. There was no ranking within the gang of painted-freaks, but externally, Edge was seen as second in authority. Like Menace, he was thought to have achieved some form of immortality. But unlike Menace, he knew no reason. A murdering psychopath indoctrinated into the fold by his superior - his radical ideology of The Father's Word spread like wildfire among the otherwise indifferent cult. His philosophy motivated wild and barbaric massacres to find other 'Chosen', individuals blessed by The Father, and it way they, who like them - would not die. The unworthy would be claimed by The Mother - Death. So great was his influence, that The Free Hands and Warren Trading allied themselves to rid the city of the mad beast. They cut him into parts and buried him alive across the Mushfens. Now, he had been restored!? "Then get to work." Edge chuckled wickedly, as he bent down and begun sniffing the ground like some mangy beast.

    The Inquisitor turned to Therin, sharply approaching him and grabbing his land, having had immediately taken note of the sigil branded into his hand. "You've gotten yourself into something quite precarious, young one. But you should not be here. You must go - quickly. To High-Castle, and beyond." Her eyes scanned the crowd, picking out a handful of others, noting the other Pathfinders. "I'm afraid our relationship ends this day. Run. Run and never show your face before me again. The others will not allow you to live if they learn of you. Now go." A shrill whistle peeled out from above, upon the ramparts, the guards quickly moved back into position. Edge suddenly stopped, reeling back and screaming at the sky with uncontrollable frivolity. Inquisitor Sterling sharply faced the man with an incredulous look. "...Yes... YES-YES-YES-YES! COME, OH BRINGER OF PAIN! OH, GREAT TORMENTOR, AND SEETH! LUSTING, HUNGERING FOR THE HUNTED!" The Black Skull fell to his knees as if caught in a moment of rapture, throwing wide his arms to embrace the sky. "...He has come."

    The fearful eyes of the merchants darted about, thoroughly unnerved by the madman. A sudden silent quake shook the air, as if some great wave of air surged into Low-Castle. With a sudden and unexpected sweep, the light of the sun faded as if obscured - yet there was nothing within the sky. No clouds. Only darkness.

    The sudden wave of dark passed as suddenly as it had come - yet the massive shadow of great skeletal, nearly draconic wings cast a terrifying shade down upon Low-Castle. The plaza suddenly exploded into uncontrollable screams. Frenzied pandemonium shook the walls as traders, traveling merchants and residents begun running for their lives as Edge laughed madly. There was nothing in the sky - yet the shadow from the sky sweeped further into the city, through Low-Castle and up into the vast encircling fortresses of High-Castle.

    Something dark and terrible had come to Seven-Arrows. Only The Pathfinders could hope to stop it.


    Spoiler: Edward Prospero (Knowledge Local: DC15)
    Show

    Born from a wealthy merchant family, Edward's family relocated from Korvosa to Seven-Arrows during the beginnings of major trade between The Three Cities. His life had been quiet and peaceful. He was skilled in both his studies, and sports. He physically excelled in seemingly every pursuit. yet, he found his life - lacking. The subsequent battle of The Free Hands and The Black Skulls became a defining factor in his life - his world would change that day.

    He abandoned his studies and joined the first children who zealously followed The Black Skulls like idols. In time, he abandoned his life, his family and everything he once had. He found the greater answers, the purpose he had sought for so long within the teaching of The Father. He became a Black Skull in full at the age of 14. Even among his peers, he knew a certain zeal that was uncontrollable - volatile. His zeal, grew into explosive and contagious radicalism - Believing he was guided by The Father to find his 'children'. He preached his gospel to those who would listen. Leading the largest genocidal campaign the Black Skulls would ever participate in, he murdered his parents, old friends and any which crossed his path. While he is known to be completely psychotic - A number of authorities within The Church have made past claims of a strange and unexpected divine-tie to his insanity.

    While not a claim affirmed officially by any member of The Inquisition, it is unofficially accepted that Edward Prospero - now known as Edge, is the last known Oracle since the death of Aroden.











    (STARTED)Side Quest: Run Like Hell (Mythic)

    Difficulty: (5) Extreme | Reward: (5) Unique | LoFP Challenge-Rating: (1) Challenging
    Freddrick Nagye has sought you out and is desperately pleading for you to take his employment to transport a small metal box of unknown origins. It is marked with The Black Brand, a seal only recognized by the criminal society, and inspires fear and dread in even the most hardened of crooks. Caring a Black Brand is as good as death to any man. No one knows what happens to those which have carried a Branded item, but they are never seen again. Be it standing on a stage, within a crowded room, or within a sealed vault. Something comes, and something spirits away the victims for eternity while reclaiming the marked object. It's only a short travel to Inner Vornheim, and the pay is good - but looking down at the box... You have a very bad feeling about this job.

    Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 4:34 PM / AR 4732
    Capital of Varisia; The City of Seven-Arrows
    District: High-Castle; - Outside Vornheim





    [The Heros From Afar: Mac Lir / Kourin Alekk Mak Esh]


    Caldern laughed as Alekk boarded the ship. "Oh, who's your friend Mac? The sod looks like he sprouted legs and crawled out of the fens." Her prods were obviously aimed at eliciting some kind of response - bothered by being ignored. Freddrick scowled at the woman, then looked to Alekk. "Bird. Frog. A goddam pit fiend. Couldn't give the dumb little ****s in Vornheim a second thought - If you're a friend of Mac's, then you're a friend of mine! -But look... I don't got a lot of time Bud. In fact... You might say this is a time sensitive offer." He pulled himself close to Mac Lir, sliding the box into his shirt. "I know you won't let me down, Mac. There's a reason we call you the best damned smuggler on this side of Avistan." Sharply turning to Alekk he scooted over, stuffing a handful of platinum coins in his hand. "I like new kids. Fresh blood in the business keeps the heart pumping - as they say. Don't know you, Bud, but you know Mac - He's damn good at... what he does. But he's going to need help on this one - a lot of it." He stepped off the ship, then turned around - ".....Mac. If it's The Big One, you might be able to take him down. Maybe... But you can't beat The Little One, you just can't. Run.... " The air suddenly quaked. A thunderous surge of wind and sound, a sonic assault. "RUN! GODS, RUN!"

    The crew of The Queen Anne glanced around in bewilderment - As if they couldn't see it. But they could. The massive beast-faced hovered at the lip of Sky-Landing, wielding massive 17ft lengths of massive hissing steel, it lashed out blindingly quick, cleaving through the solid forged steel of the sky-dock like a hot-brand through snow. The woman suddenly cried out, immediately boarding the vessel, a cry of "BRACE!" echoed out as the airship's anchors flipped over and off the landing and down into High-Castle. Caldern, drew one of her massive pistols and shot off the steel chain from the ships bow as the peeled off from the landing and drifted off into the air as the massive 50ft steel dockwas shredded in a blinding flurry of blazing frost and crackling flame. The Morrigan was cast adrift as her dock was split in two, and the steel of her anchor fell away dragging the vessel down.

    Without a thought, Alekk and Mac Lir dived off the ship catching unto the twisted metal platform as one of the massive wrought-iron blades cleaved a swath of metal from the deck as if shaving off a thin slice of butter. Freddrick, had already taken the elevator down, leaving both men stranded upon the teetering platform as both ships drifted away. The wind howled as the great beast flapped torn and rotted wings that crackled with sizzling bolts of lightning. Though the massive creature was far too large, to judge its size, it must have been at least 30ft tall. The held fast to the twisting metal pulling themselves up upon the platform as the massive devil glared down at them with frightful eyeless voids.

    The world suddenly begun to slow. The battering winds from the creature's powerful wings and nauseating breath eased, then ceased entirely. The deafening winds and creak of the mangled metal of the dock stilled into silence. Then the world was still. A subtle shaking filled their hands. A warmth - then burning. It flared up into a blazing and crippling agony that brought them each to their knees as the light of the evening sun bent and deflected off the the crackling fist of radiance which rippled out from the sigil upon their hands. With explosive force, a furious golden maelstrom of light erupted from their marked hand, lifting them into the air. A massive surge of power unlike anything they knew existed suddenly manifested - threatening to tear apart their mortal frames, until the golden luminescence poured out from their eyes and mouths. A great voice filled their ears.

    "...And so, the first of The Blessed have risen. The might of your decaying world lingers about about you. Over you, and soon upon you. Alone, you shall fall, and the curse of The Pale Lady shall drown you amidst a darkness of a likeness you've never known. Seize the light - your only weapon... Don't be afraid."

    The storm of luminescent gold surged into them, like an imploding star. The runes running around the sigil filled with fierce burning light, as if stolen from the very heavens. Everything felt changed. Though there was nothing they could place, it was an awareness, a 6th sense which did not exist before. They could feel causality slip through their fingers like some sort of intangible series of threads. Time. It was an object which they could touch.


    The great beast pounded its mighty fists into the steel of the landing bending the massive 400ft tower at a slight angle as it pulled itself up to leer over them with a massive toothy grin. It's beastial face, covered in fur and adorned with great and frightful horns seemed to taunt them. As if the creature wordlessly gloated above the mortals. The light coiled and wound about their hands - the last of the light seeping into the seal. The massive swords of the creature laid flat upon the ground, hissing in coldfire, and crackling bursts of some kind of black profane energy - as if it were lightning turned black. It was like a cage. It belched out a name - it's name. With a mean-spirited confidence only an infernal-beast could know. "ALASTOR!" The last syllable became a deafening, ear-bleeding cry that shook the metal beneath their feet. It didn't take any kind of genius to know what - who this beast was. The Usurped Arch Devil - once known as The Executioner of Hell. He'd lost his seat of power to Amon, a Duke of Hell. His was a story only know because The House of Corval sealed the great devil away some 20 years ago. Now it seemed... he was free.

    "Don't be afraid."






    ASCENSION

    Advancement: First Side Quest Started


    Ascension Surge:
    You have unlocked a small measure of your divine power. This new fraction of divinity has graced you with a new awareness. The perception of Causality and Time. You have learned to tap into it, bend it and even re-write it. Changing events which may have occurred at your very whim. However this power is extremely limited and consumes a large portion of your achieved divinity with each use.

    Performing an Ascension Surge consumed one point of Ascension. Unlike Mythic Power used to perform a Mythic Surge, these points will never be restored. More points can be gained by completing challenging events and Side Quests, but otherwise provide an extremely limited pool. Ascension Points can provided numerous static benefits for having them - however these abilities are unlocked with future Ascension Advancements and are unavailable while starting. Choosing when to expend Ascension Points should be considered very carefully as you will not be getting them back, and it will decrease the effectiveness of numerous future Ascension Abilities gained in the future.

    Use: You may expend 1 Point of Ascension as an Immediate Action at any point you desire. This Immediate Action does not count against your actions during your following round as would a traditional Immediate Action. Furthermore, a conventional Immediate Action may be taken with, during, or in conjunction with an Ascension Surge.

    After making any single roll, you may roll again (This need not be on a d20). Take the higher of the two results. If the new result would still fail, then take the higher of the two results - This result receives a +20 Untyped Bonus to the attempt. If the result would succeed - It succeeds as if you have made a Critical Success (Nat 20). Attacks confirmed in this manner do not need to confirm Critical Threat and pass automatically. If the result does not pass even with the applied Untyped Bonus, the result fails as normal and the Ascension Surge is wasted. Use of Ascension Surge to accomplish a task does so with extreme and often impossible results and should be used only while in the greatest need.



    ASCENSION POINTS GAINED: 4

    (+1) Extreme Difficulty | (+1) LoFP: Challenging | (+1) Mythic | (1 Points) Default





    Run Like Hell: Chase Scene 1 - The Tower

    Alastor leaned forward, speaking out with a great and terrible gutteral roar, that shook their very bones within their bodies. (In Infernal)"Worthy prey..... Entertain me, mortals! Struggle, fight, fight til I tear the fleshed from your bones!" The massive beast, cried out in shuddering cacophony "FLEEEEEE ME!" Without a second word of warning, the great devil lifted his blades madly, his great muscled armed pumped in blinding fury as the thrashed forward, stuffing his overly large body into the mangled Sky-Landing. With expert motions the two of them burst into motion - Alekk dived over one of the massive blades as he made for the rising elevator. Mac Lir spun away as he watched his ship drift away, dragged down by a piece of the dock and the tethered anchor, ducking under a massive freezing blade just as it whipped by his head, freezing part of his cowl. He shook the thought away - he had to focus. He glided swiftly away from the wild devil as he cleaved apart the steel air-dock in his howling frenzy - evidently enjoying himself in his storm of destruction. The blades passed narrowly, one of the massive platters of sharpened steel buzzed by Alekk as he reached the elevator nicking his back and leaving a burning cut which quickly frosted over, though he winced at the sensation. The elevator finally reached the top - its doors opened. The Mishtai's eyes lit up at his path of escape...

    The devil slammed both of his blades together in a double grip and spun in a whirling storm of steel with the flat of his blade. Mar Lir glanced back just in time as he heard the bestial devils' gleeful bellow, but it was not enough time to react. The blade ripped through the over-hang and cleaved through the ceiling and the levy-system which the elevator used to run. The blade then came slashing into them, plastering them across its burning surface and hammering them both down the collapsing 400ft skeletal-steel shaft. Without waiting, the devil slashing open the narrow compartment and begun falling after them whilst wildly hammering away with his blades in a blender of thundering electricity and freezing brimstone. They fall in a racing free-fall.... the dancing blue flame sparked off of their burning garments, the terrible blow left them shuddering as the steel beams of the crumbling shaft were tore apart in the midst of the devils ungodly strength.




    Part 1: Shafted - Failed

    Mac Lir and Alekk make a mad-dash to escape from Alastor's blinding fury of strokes; However fail in the last stretch to the elevator, or optionally the edge of the landing. They are instead struck by Alastor's swords and thrown down into the shaft as the devil crashes down after them, obliterating the narrow walls in a flurry of blows with his dreadful swords:

    Mechanics:
    DC [17] Reflex Save

    Move 1:
    Mac Lir +13 (1d20+13)[25]
    Alekk +9 (1d20+9)[28]

    Move 2:
    Mac Lir +13 (1d20+13)[23]
    Alekk +9 (1d20+9)[18]

    Move 3:
    Mac Lir +13 (1d20+13)[16]
    Alekk +9 (1d20+9)[15]


    ****
    Mac Lir Takes: (6d6+21)[39] Damage
    Alekk Takes: (6d6+21)[37] Damage

    ****




    Part 2: The Blender
    Falling through the shaft, Mac and Alekk need to think quickly how to best escape Alastor's approaching assault and the fast approaching ground.

    Option 1: (If you can Fly)
    DC30 Fly Check - Stop yourself from hitting the ground at the last moment using your ability of flight

    Option 2: Take hold of another person
    DC+5 (3d6+5)[13] Acrobatics Check:

    Kicking off from the wall, you may attempt to grab the other individual and aid one another in your attempt to cease and slow your descent. This option grants a +4 Bonus to Options 1 and 3

    Option 3: Face the assault
    (1d8+2)[3] Jumps:
    DC+5 (3d6+5)[19] DC Acrobatics Checks:

    Kicking off from the wall multiple times, you slowly manage to slow your descent to survivable speeds - but you must survive the storm of blades from Alastor's fury above.





  18. - Top - End - #18
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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    "Well, it has been a long trip no reason we couldn't..." Dex is cut off by the sudden commotion surrounding the gate. He weaves through the crowd a bit to get a view of what is happening before it the blackened carriage comes into view. The celestial gunman's reflexes allowed him to unconsciously bring the launcher at his side to bear, and a practiced hand to draw a projectile with a red and silver band from one of the loops of his cloak, immediately loading it into the launcher and quickly closing with a loud 'snap' followed by the dull 'thump' of the projectile being fired from the rifled barrel.

    The grenade lands firmly in the writhing mass, adding an intense burning white/blue light to the hail of gunfire from the city's guards. A handy spin replaces the launcher in its holster as Dex's off hand pulls the slinged rifle off his shoulder and brings it up in preparation to deal with any survivors of the crash. His finger nearly squeezes a short burst of hot adamantine into the "driver" before the six-bladed woman approaches it. He retains his aim on the creatures head as it begins blathering at the inquisitor. It becomes apparent to Stredexon that the immediate threat has passed causing him to lower his rifle and simply stand back as he watches things unfold.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Drawing the grenade launcher and loading it with a thermite grenade as a free action.

    Targeting the space the carriage is in when the guards fire on it.
    Attack - (1d20+14)[21]
    Damage - (8d8+8)[37]
    Last edited by BizzaroStormy; 2016-01-27 at 02:33 AM.
    The Swallowfield Children - Stredexon Intwisca

  19. - Top - End - #19
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Triskavanski's Avatar

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    "WHAT DID YA DO!" Therin cries out as hell, for all intensive purposes breaks out, practically literally. He stares at La'Min for a few moments before starting to move back, "No.. Nevermind! We need ta.. Of course that is when he saw her. His master of the alchemical trade, Candice Sterling bashing down the man-like creature of darkness before she marches up to him grabbing his hands. He wasn't going to lie, He wasn't any a paladin, he wasn't a mage of great renown, nothing like that. He was just a fairly scared ratfolk. A Pathfinder sure, but still quite frightened.

    Dumbly he nods as she holds his hand, gritting his teeth before looking to his hand and then to her. "Who?" he asks before glancing to La'Min, reaching out to grab her hand next, a situation that was less for her sake and far more for his own. "She's right.. we need ta get moving. If yer a pathfinder ta we need to hurry, Love!"

    Then the dragon came over head. Therin grimiced, looking more eager to get out of there "Aww.. Suck an elf! he cursed under his breath.
    Animated Spellcards from the Deck of Many Things
    A game I found interesting Aegis: Innocence

  20. - Top - End - #20
    Bugbear in the Playground
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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    "I suppose we could put the matters of the resurrected legend aside, at least for the moment being." Xiaomiao's expression did not change; she slowly turned from her Pathfinder companions to observe the commotion's source, but the air around her was visibly different from her formerly cheerful self. Within a few seconds, the air surrounding the became distinctly cold, and a faint nimbus of water encircled her. Along with the changes, a faint flutter of feathers circled her briefly before disappearing into a protective aura of light, leaving behind a momentary, nostalgic scent.

    She did not take a step toward the wagon, merely watching with a readied stance as it was crushed by the castle gates. She did not say a word when the hooded figure revealed herself as an inquisitor, though her battle stance became relaxed, and her eyes slowly began to wander the crowd as if trying to catch the glimpse of another familiar face. Her eyes fell on Therin briefly - or, rather, they fell on the sigil that the ratling pathfinder wore on his hands.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Basically, Xiaomiao changed her stance to Elemental Flux Stance, with water (cold) as her primary element.

    She also assumed Thrashing Dragon Style, and used her pathwalker ability to manifest Vigor on herself for 1 minute. Other than that, she didn't do anything of note yet. I'm going to hold off on further actions until Mason or Dex acts.

  21. - Top - End - #21
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    RogueGirl

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    Spoiler: Round 1 actions and notes
    Show

    Active Stance: Broken Blade Stance*: +Level competence bonus to Acrobatics checks to avoid AoOs, and may make an additional attack when making a full attack action. * This stance is always active by default.

    Standard Action: Cast Future's Boon on self: You may make any one d20 roll (typically a check or attack roll) twice, then take the better of the two results. The subject must choose which die roll to affect before the roll is made, at which point the spell discharges. You may only be under the effect of one future's boon at a time. Duration: 5 hours remaining.

    Move Action: Help Therin onto her back in piggyback position. (Asked, he was willing).


    Spoiler: Round 2 actions and notes
    Show

    Total Base Speed: 100 ft.
    Item of note: Leggings of Cheetah's Sprint and of the Cat : Run/charge speed becomes x10.
    Total Speed: 1,000ft/rd.

    "I.. I don't know!" La'Min went into a panic. She'd only acted to break a bad luck spell, and then this happened? She wasn't even sure of what was happening. What she did understand was that she needed to run, and running was something she was good at. "Hold on Therin!"She took a breath, cast a spell she knew might come in handy later, and helped Therin onto her back in the standard piggyback formation. A second later, she runs at her top speed as though she were trying to outrun Death himself. She tried to navigate past the swarms of people and get them both out safely. She didn't know where they'd go, but she'd cross that bridge later. ****, ****, ****... Fortune be with us all.. she thought, mind racing to keep up with her feet and focused on pursuing their successful escape.
    Last edited by Fii; 2016-01-27 at 07:00 PM.
    Fii Starling:
    5 inch Pixie, Rogue, Chosen of the God of Luck- Greater Invisibility at will. She's given "stealth" a new meaning. Her feats gave her a winged, chaotic, panda familar. Her run ins with a deck of many things have left her with a merged rapier and orb of storms. Her sneak attacks pack a punch.
    Did I mention... first. EVER. DnD character.
    Thank you great DM...
    ... and Fii loots the room.

  22. - Top - End - #22
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Tacitus's Avatar

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    Heart pounding and the slice across his back screaming Alekk wastes no time in trying to yell to Mac as they fall down the elevator shaft towards their impending doom. He doubts his ability to stop his fall entirely with the limited flight available to him and knows slowing down too soon would thrust him into the blender above. He calls out, rather loudly, through the collective, commanding help from Mac 'Catch me! I'm going to bolster our bodies with psychic power, and hopefully heal thereafter. I can fix our wounds if we get even a single moment of breathing room.' With a flourish he casts off the tatters of the riding glove burned away by golden light and focuses his thoughts upon his own body and begins selecting key points to reinforce with psychic power. Almost immediately he feels the might of his mind flow into his body and he harnesses that increased vigor and forces it throughout his Collective so that Mac might also benefit from the same boon.

    Spoiler: Action Notes
    Show
    Swift to reallocate Essence (major notes, Akashic Augmentation ->Vigor)
    Grab Mac. Cannot fail Acrobatics check
    Manifest Vigor. Cannot fail on Concentration check to manifest while falling (assumed violent motion DC 15+LvL with +15 Concentration from Wis 9, ML 5, +1 Trait) However, a roll anyway in case the assumption is wrong (1d20+15)[17]
    Overchannel for (1d8)[8] damage
    Vigor: 1pp 5temp HP base, 4PP for +20 temp HP, 1 PP for +1 Target as a [Network] power, -pp from Akashic Augmentation
    Total PP cost: 5 for 25 Temporary HP to myself and Mac Lir
    42/47 Remaining PP

    If there are more than one rounds of actions available he's also manifest Natural Healing, swapping Akashic Augmentation to Natural Healing and spending 4pp for 12hp to both parties, and Alek will redirect 4 of that healing to Mac, so 8hp for Alekk and 16 for Mac.


    Spoiler: Statistics
    Show
    HP: 16/61+25 Temp HP
    AC: 28/16/23
    20% Miss Chance vs Melee and Ranged (DC 19 Disbelief)
    Saves 10/9/16
    Land Speed 40ft

    Essence: Capacity 2 [+1 for one] DCs 11+E+Int. 11 Essence Total.
    Veils:
    [0] Riven Darts: X darts that deal 1d4+Xd4, no more than 2 darts per target. 20ft Ranged Touch as Standard
    [3] Pestilence Cloak: 20% Miss Chance vs Range and Melee, Will Disbelief DC [16+X], Fly Clumsy 5+5Xft
    [0] Ditchdigger Armlets: Full Round Act to create 10x10 difficult terrain, deals 1d6+Xd6 damage. 1d4 round cooldown
    [2] Stalker's Tabi: +2+2X Acrobatics&Stealth

    Feats:
    [1] Akashic Augmentation: Chose a power. Cost is -X, only applies to Augments, can't reduce extra cost below 1. Can't invest more than power level
    -Power Selected: Vigor

    Racial:
    [2] Speed: +10ft*X land speed.
    [2] Natural Armor: +X Natural Armor
    [1] Spines: Two 1d4 Spine attacks as primary natural weapons. Every odd after 1 adds +1 Enhancement

    Charged Items:
    [0] Wand of Lesser Restoration
    [0] Wand of Cure Light Wounds
    [0] Wand of Invisibility
    Last edited by Tacitus; 2016-01-27 at 09:35 PM.
    Never can find my towel...

    So it goes.

    GNU Terry Pratchett
    Forgot who did my avatar, sorry! >.<

  23. - Top - End - #23
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    forg99rules's Avatar

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    ~Crews PoV~

    Alexis had gone up to talk with Hikil about getting the ship ready for a fast departure. "Hikil, Gets us ready to move Captain has a bad feeling about whats going down and so do I." "Damn and here i though we would be staying awhile, Alright i will have us ready to go in a few." After talking to Hikil she looked back over towards Mac and wondered what sort of trouble was headed their way.

    Alexis watched as Freddrick handed something over to Alekk and quickly run away, No sooner had that happened had a loud Crash came from the dock. Alexis watched as the dock got shredded, a large chunck of it still attached to the ship, and her captain and his friend getting hit by some force and tossed down the elevator shaft.

    "HIKIL GET US OUT OF HERE NOW!" "I'M TRYING BUT THAT DAMN DOCKS GOT US, MALTOR DRAKO CUT US LOOSE"
    Maltor and Drako were both lounging on the deck waiting for their captain to give them some shore leave. When the dock suddenly started getting torn apart they stood their dumbfounded unsure of what they were seeing before their eyes. They then head Alexis yell for Hikil to get them out proceeded by Hikil calling for them to cut the lines that held them tied to what was left of the Dock. Immediate they sprang into action drawing weapons and cutting the ropes that were keeping them attached, Once the ropes were cut they looked over the edge and watched as the large piece of steel fell towards the city bellow. "Man i sure as hell hope no one is down bellow" "Eh it will be fine i would put money on Warren covering the cost for any damages or lives lost".


    ~Mac Lir POV~

    One second he was standing there the next he saw a demon, He knew this was bad business and took off, Sadly no matter what he did the demon still managed to hit him and Alekk knocking them both down the elevator shaft. As they fell Mac heard in his mind someone saying to catch them and that they were going to bolster their bodies. Mac turned towards the only person who it could have been and caught Alekk as he pushed off the wall towards him, Mac caught him with ease as this wasn't his first time catching a falling friend. "Aight i got ya, Once we get to Ground try to keep up i'm going to finish my delivery and hopefully while im at it i can lose this bastard in the city". Watching the ground grow Nearer Mac prepared himself for the stop, Activating his powers he easily stopped a few feet from the ground releasing Alekk "Head towards the Lantern District i will catch up to you, Got a little surprise for this bastard." Mac turns around and pulls out a Feather from his pocket, tossing it to the ground he spoke the command word and a Giant tree sprang up from where the feather was, "That should slow him down some." Mac turned and using his boots of jaunt caught up with Alekk. He knew he had to find Gril and get this over with as fast as possible. He only hoped that the demon would stop chasing him once he delivered the goods.


    Spoiler: Actions taken
    Show
    Option 1 taken no possibility of failure on that as +31 bonus to fly.
    Activated a Feather Token (Tree) to block the elevator shaft
    Activated boots of Jaunt to catch up to Alekk
    Last edited by forg99rules; 2016-01-28 at 04:23 PM.

  24. - Top - End - #24
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    Triskavanski's Avatar

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    Therin squeaked as he was pulled into a piggyback formation. In all of his years as a pathfinder or rather just being alive, he never could figure out for the life of him why it was called a Piggyback Ride. Was it how people used to carry their pigs? Was it a euphemism for cops? Did actual pigs carry their young on their back? The world may never know, and this certainly wasn't the time to be thinking of such things.

    He quickly realized what she was about to do and if her breaking the sound barrier was any indication.. He clung to her back for dear life, while trying to make himself as aerodynamic as possible, before letting out an "Eeeee!" as the world blurred around them.
    Animated Spellcards from the Deck of Many Things
    A game I found interesting Aegis: Innocence

  25. - Top - End - #25
    Orc in the Playground
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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    Even as the wagon crashed through the closing gates, blossoming in hellish fire, Mason could suspect what the identity of the corpse like body was. Edge. He then cut off all telepathic contact with his blade, in order to keep his sister from knowing who-, no, what had just come into Seven Arrows again. They weren't the only oldies coming back, it seemed, but Edge was definitely the older horror.

    As the Inquisitor lady put her boots to it's head, and made it look up, his suspicions were confirmed, and immediately it felt as though a spike of ice went through his heart. Reactively, he pulled his cloak's hood right over his head, and pulled a scroll out from his satchel. In response to Xiaomiao, he said "No, not quite. We still have to deal with a resurrected bastard, except it's someone we can't deal with. She's right, we had better leave. Seems Abaddon-like, not good at all."
    From the 26th to the 1st, my access to this site will be quite sparse.

  26. - Top - End - #26
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Mornings's Avatar

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)



    Part I: Seven Arrows
    Main Quest: The Witch of Undercity
    Difficulty: (3) Medium | Reward: (2) Low | LoFP Challenge-Rating: (0) None
    Raph'æl has gone into hiding. At his summons you have returned to the great city of Seven-Arrows. In search of the elusive Bechal Rossfield, Raph'æl's contemporary enemy and bitter rival - you set off in search of the faceless Witch of Undercity; Gal'bertel S'Sisery. While no one knows what S'Sisery looks like, it is no mystery as to where he dwells: Now each of you make for Romere's Tower, a heavily guarded mechanical-wonder which wandered about thickly crowded Lantern District. Possessing within it the only gate into Undercity. The Warren Trading Company closely manages all traffic in and out of the gate. Entering would prove no problem, but emerging from the city again would be another matter entirely...

    Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 4:34 PM / AR 4732
    Capital of Varisia; The City of Seven-Arrows
    District: Low-Castle; - Outside Vornheim





    [The Heros Of Low-Castle: Xiaomiao / Mason / Stredexon]



    The Black Skull, formerly, Edward Prospero, stretched out his arms wide - his back bent so far his head nearly touched the ground. He rose to his feet in an effortless and supernatural manner. The grin plastered upon his crazed face was stained with some foul ecstasy. "The Father has blessed this day. Many Children shall rise from The Ancient One's fury - My path is revealed... Show me Inquisitor, show me what designs The Father has given you." With a frozen toothy grin he slid forward, his feet not leaving the ground, but rather, dragging beneath him like some living corpse. With a sharp and contrastingly swift motion he kicked up the hilt of the great stone blade. Inquisitor Sterling turned away without a word and made for the large gate further in the distance up into High-Castle. Edge cackled madly, a rasping raucous laughter as he begun screaming out some infernal song as he slowly followed with slithering steps. His twisted hymn echoed from the walls sending both soldiers and residents into panicked flight, scrambling to shelter themselves in doors - The most infamous murderer to walk Varisia had returned to Seven Arrows.


    "Faster than the wind we rode!
    "To where our blackened hordes dawned!"

    "Armed in the fires of combat!"
    "The end will come fast on this day!"

    "Stronger than the gods we fought!"
    "Triumphant for dark prophecies!"

    "Besiege the thrones of reverence!"
    "FATHER OF ALL FIERY FATE!"

    "Besiege the thrones of reverence!"
    "Warriors will be crowned this day!"

    Not bothering to see what would develop from the chaos which quickly unfolded about them; Dark shadows dancing, gunfire sounding, infernal song-singing, and the bay of horses and cries from the ramparts... It was enough to know it was time to get out of there, and quickly. La'Min, lifted Therin upon her back as she frantically glanced about - where to go? Where would she go? Even she couldn't be sure - so she followed her first instinct.





    High-Castle: La'Min / Therin

    With a sudden step, her foot cracked the stone beneath her. Veins of fragmented mortor and cobbled limestone fissured out in all directions as her muscles flexed and tightened. A slight pause. With a suddenly crushingly powerful push from the stone, she broke into a dead sprint. A sonic explosion cascaded from under her feet and showered those about her with a rain of small rocks and dirt. The sudden acceleration nearly ripped Therin's arms from their place as he was suddenly catapulted through the fortress-city. The windy gales assaulted him and dried out his eyes as a small beetle was smashed upon his forehead. Vision became a stream of grey-colors and motion, only a small tunnel of sight of what lay before them remained in focus. Massive buildings passed with sudden and extraordinary speed. La'Min's ears wriggled and flapped about like long fluffy streamers to patter the ratfolk's long nose as she ran. The image of men and soldiers all melded together in some indistinguishable blend of movement - The gate of Low-Castle Proper zipped by them and was gone. They had already left the lower city, raced along wooden paths and past parapets faster then anyone could even react. Low-Castle was behind them now. The massive grey stone of High-Castle surrounded them - the great clearings and plaza's of the city raced on by with little left to distinguish between them but the sudden flashes of their passing.

    Cries surrounded them, the stop-motion-figures of citizens pointing to the sky filled their eyes and ears. Far-far above, bursts of light could be seen penetrating the thick oppressive haze, until suddenly an airship came spinning low - tied fast to a massive sheet of wrought-iron, as if it had been tied to dock then cut loose - dock and all. The crew frantically moved above, cutting the rope and sending the large sheet of metal flying off. The rusted chunk of metal crashed and whipped by them as they made their passing. It smashed into the ground before bouncing once and landing with a massive crash. They knew that ship - It was Mac Lir's! From the thick smog above great pieces of violet burning metal came crashing down from above in some unholy rain. With little choice, La'Min skidded to stop. Her feet slid across the thick stone leaving black burning streaks as a massive 20ft sheet of steel crashed down directly in front of them, spearing itself into the ground like a walk to block their passage. Still unable to stop, they softly crashed into the sheet of iron with a dull thud, knocking it over to slam on the ground. There was chaos within the city.




    Mason's mind peeled back through those events so closely tied to the infernal plane of Abaddon. It was the preaching of Edward Prospero that had given rise to the deathcult within The Black Skulls. His teachings spoke of The Father's connection to the apocalyptic wasteland and the visions which he had been blessed with - the secrets of immortality. A gift to The Father's Children, that they may wage eternal combat with the Shir. An eternal war, which would wash the world in blood and purge those unworthy. The Chosen would rise to join in combat against the Shir, and when nothing was left - the enemy would be defeated, leaving only The Father's Chosen. Though the preaching sounded like only the words of a madman - with Edge's rise in power among his peers, changes could be felt by the Magicae of the Arcanium. In the final days of his bloody reign, a strange band of creatures came to Seven-Arrows and assisted Warren Trading and The Free Hands in defeating and subduing Edge. After, his well established 'death', it was revealed the crucial band of warriors were Dami-Anaeshem.

    The revelation cemented Edge's authority as some form of divine-speaker and prophet for those Black Skulls loyal to his teachings. Things would never be the same again for the city of Seven-Arrows. A rash of terrorism and guerrilla war plagued the city. The radicalist-faction fully divided from the neutral and freedom-favoring Black Skulls which followed Menace. They were something else entirely - and murdered liberally. Whatever the connection - it was at least true Abaddon held some powerful influence for The Father's Chosen.

    The cries from the ramparts could be heard echoing above from the guardsmen, "INQUISITORS! - INQUISITORS!" A band of The Clergy were at the gates. Dexon knew it was bad news when he heard it - The Inquisition; The heavy striking arm of The Altruistic Watch was not a force to be trifiled with. The Watch emerged after The Shattered Crusade, a coalition of men of every god - aligned to provide a strong and guiding path to the ignorant masses. They possessed a certain authority which dwarfed the courts and lordlings. A powerful, incorruptible law-arm which sought out and destroyed threats it deemed; a danger to humanity. Though their methods were questionable, their results were real - and tangible. They were perhaps one of the few groups which had made true and decisive headway in developing means to control and survive the curses of the Primal Storms and the terrible creatures which they created. When not enforcing law, or hunting supernatural beats - they made great and painful efforts to gather, detain and control any asset which they deemed useful in their quest to be rid of the unnatural influences of primal magic. Any individual blighted, scarred or contaminated by a storm - or effected by the strange enigma known as primal magic was pursued and persecuted by The Watch with the utmost prejudice. The Inquisitor, which Therin seemed to know spoke as if the symbols upon their hands somehow marked them in such a way. If it were true, they were surely in the worst possible place at the worst possible time. With simply an Inquisitor's word alone, they could become fugitives in an instant, should they resist arrest. The Free Hands desired no conflict with the dangerous group and thus did the soldiers and guardsmen of the city aptly oblige delegations from The Inquisition. The needed to get out of there, now. - The cry sounded from above. "Open the gates!"

    It was no mystery to each of them the contents of their letter. They needed to seek out The Witch of Undercity. His location was easily divined - Romere's Tower. A mechanical construct which wandered The Lantern District in Inner Vornheim - They'd not even made it out of Low-Castle and things already seemed to sway out of their favor. High-Castle and Outer Vornheim still remained before they even arrived within the inner-city. A long ways to go...





    (STARTED)Side Quest: Run Like Hell (Mythic)

    Difficulty: (5) Extreme | Reward: (5) Unique | LoFP Challenge-Rating: (1) Challenging
    Freddrick Nagye has sought you out and is desperately pleading for you to take his employment to transport a small metal box of unknown origins. It is marked with The Black Brand, a seal only recognized by the criminal society, and inspires fear and dread in even the most hardened of crooks. Caring a Black Brand is as good as death to any man. No one knows what happens to those which have carried a Branded item, but they are never seen again. Be it standing on a stage, within a crowded room, or within a sealed vault. Something comes, and something spirits away the victims for eternity while reclaiming the marked object. It's only a short travel to Inner Vornheim, and the pay is good - but looking down at the box... You have a very bad feeling about this job.

    Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 4:34 PM / AR 4732
    Capital of Varisia; The City of Seven-Arrows
    District: High-Castle; - Outside Vornheim





    [The Heros From Afar: Mac Lir / Kourin Alekk Mak Esh]


    Run Like Hell: Chase Scene 2 - Iron Rain

    The great devil howled with deafening glee, caught in wild abandon as his blades thrashed, slashed, and cleaved. His great maw hissed with thick choking vaporous mist behind a toothy smile. The violet flame of the massive swords ran through hundreds of feet of steel as the monster fell after them, cutting aside swaths of rusting iron to clear a path for his massive fur-covered body. The vicious winds from the thrashing blade could be felt pressing upon both the men's backs with each passing swing of the terrible weapons. A rapid assault of bellowing gales battered them, as if they were within a storm of wind. Alekk focused his psionic powers releasing a wave of mental energy upon them both. Mac Lir felt his cloven and seared flesh knit under the psychic energy - though it did not restore the blood he'd lost, it gave him renewed vigor.

    Not willing to waste the opportunity - the second wind, which Alekk had provided him, he stretched out his arms wide as they fell head-first through the iron shaft. The light peered through the spaced between the closely laid bars as they past with a blinding quickness as they passed at terminal velocity. He spun off to the side, kicking off a passing bar and diving back towards Alekk grabbing him out of the air as the wind buffeted them. The dark of the shaft's bottom came into view - and then then suddenly upon them.

    With a sudden commanding thought, a burst of golden flecks of light showered from his body and both men abruptly stopped - his racial gifts of flight ceasing the fall immediately. With their nose to the flat of the elevator-box's floor, which lay smashed upon the bottom of the shaft, he released Alekk to sprint off and out of the dark shaft. Above he could see the dreadful sparks from Alastor's blades illuminate his face with each sundering blow. With still hands, he reached into a pouch, produced a feather - slamming it into the ground before exploding into a sudden and unexpected flash of sapphire light. Teleporting out of the shaft and resuming his sprint, he could see over his shoulder as the bottom of the tower exploded with a massive 60ft tree charging up to smash the devil in his face. A grunting and infuriated howl echoed out as the remains of the Sky-Landing's shaft detonated in a great and thunderous bloom of leaves and tree-limbs accompanied by splitting metal. The timber of the wood twisted, cracked and split as tree and tower came down in one mangled heap of smoking scrap.

    Perhaps he would have felt some relief, but the victory was washed away from his mind as the sight of the remains of Sky Landing's 'crown' came toppling out from the grey smog in the sky. The frightful and unexpected sight set them both to running all the faster. The screams of the citizens surrounded them, the yells of guardsmen and soldiers as everyone ran for their lives beneath the iron rain.

    (Small Debris)
    The wave of falling iron levels a storm of blazing destruction upon those peoples within the heart of High-Castle as a sheet of blazing and sharp metal blades falls from above to rip, burn and pierce anyone unfortunate to catch any of the shrapnel.

    Number of Threatening Objects
    ( (1d6)[5] )
    For each object you must succeed a DC (3d6+5)[20] Acrobatics Check or take:
    (2d4+5)[8] Points of Piercing Damage and (1d4)[2] Points of Fire Damage.

    (Large Debris)
    From the storm of falling iron thunders down large and massive chunks of severed steel which was cloven by Alastor's strikes. These massive sheets of metal range from 10ft to 30ft wide, and threaten to not only main or kill - but bury you beneath their mass and weight.

    Number of Threatening Objects
    ( (1d4-1)[2] )
    For each object you must succeed a DC (4d6+5)[19] Acrobatics Check or take:
    (4d6+10)[22] Points of Bludgeoning Damage - For each failure attempt a DC (3d6+5)[18] Fortitude Save. On success, you only take half damage. Additionally, if you have taken damage from a large object, you must succeed a DC (3d6+5)[12] Reflex Save or be pinned under iron scrap. (A pinned character is removed from the Chase until they have passed a DC22 Strength Check or DC22 Escape Artist Check to free themselves.)


    Last edited by Mornings; 2016-01-28 at 11:27 PM.

  27. - Top - End - #27
    Bugbear in the Playground
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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    "Looks like you aren't the only one with that idea." Xiaomiao sighed, her eyes following the disappearing figures of the ratfolk and the bunny-girl as they rapidly disappeared from sight. She wanted to stay here for a bit longer, in reality - to help the lower castle merchants and townsfolk against this threat and perhaps earn her father's tradition that little bit of extra fame in Seven Arrows. However, the situation was rapidly devolving out of control; if even the inquisitors are likely to turn on them despite being Pathfinders, as Ms. Sterling had implied, then she would only contribute to the chaos of it all.

    "Since it came to this, does anyone need a hand?" she asked tentatively, eyeing the scroll that Mason had retrieved. If no one responds, she would blur time a bit with her arts, and soar into the sky - darting directly in the direction of the high castle. "If not, then let us not wait around here any longer."

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    With haste provided by one of her maneuvers, Xiaomiao's maximum flying speed (while "running" in the air) is 100 x 4 = 400 ft. Every 9 rounds or so she'll slow to 100 ft., then proceed with her maximum speed again.

    If anyone needs assistance, she'll take them with her. She will also try to identify Mason's scroll and equivocate-copy it if it's beneficial - spellcraft check below:

    Spellcraft: (1d20+18)[19]
    Last edited by Felyndiira; 2016-01-29 at 02:28 AM. Reason: I can math. Yes I can.

  28. - Top - End - #28
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    BizzaroStormy's Avatar

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    "We'd best hurry then..." Dexon slings his rifle low across his belly as his cloak billows. A pair of massive feathered wings with a bright metallic sheen unfurl through two long slits cut through the drab cape. He crouches slightly, wrapping an arm around Mason. "Hang on!" he times a short leap with a flap of his wings, bringing him and the surprisingly light sylph off the ground. It takes a moment to get used to the extra load, but he heads off towards the lantern district, albeit at a slower than normal pace.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Already cleared the pickup with nuclear via skype. The heavy load will slow me down to 75ft though.
    The Swallowfield Children - Stredexon Intwisca

  29. - Top - End - #29
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Tacitus's Avatar

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    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    Once Mac releases him, Alekk tumbles forward out of the elevator and up into a run at best speed and doesn't bother to turn at the sound of limbs and leaves bursting forth into the elevator shaft. He does, however, slow ever so slightly as the fiery debris begins to rain from above and spares a glance in Mac's direction. Where the essence of souls of graceful beings and dexterous heroes pulse in Alekk's frame, his companion seems to have no such boon. Though turning back for him would no doubt impact his own safety, Alekk cannot ignore that the man seems to be taking the worst of it and when he takes an otherwise fatal stumble the mishtai rushes in to bodily shove Mac out of the way of the worst of it. After a quick assist he chastises him, 'Keep moving, dammit! If you have any other fancy tricks, pull 'em out. My main tricks are pretty much keeping us breathing. Try not to stray further than about a hundred feet. Much further than that and my Collective gets fuzzy, and drops off entirely not too much farther out than that.' He focuses his mind again and begins channeling psychic energy beyond his normal capacity once again, this time to mend wounds and within seconds he can feel the wound in his back begin to close and the pain fade.

    Spoiler: Action Notes
    Show
    42/47 starting PP
    Swift: Reallocate Essence. Changing Akashic Augmentation to Natural Healing and no other changes.
    Overchanneling for 4 damage to self taking down some temp HP
    1pp base for 3 healing, 4pp for +12 Healing, 1pp for +1 Target via [Network] augment, -1pp augment cost from Akashic Augmentation
    End effect is 15hp healing to both Alekk Mak and Mac Lir for 5pp.
    End PP 37/47


    Spoiler: Statistics
    Show
    HP: 31/61+21 Temp HP
    AC: 28/16/23
    20% Miss Chance vs Melee and Ranged (DC 19 Disbelief)
    Saves 10/9/16
    Land Speed 40ft

    Essence: Capacity 2 [+1 for one] DCs 11+E+Int. 11 Essence Total.
    Veils:
    [0] Riven Darts: X darts that deal 1d4+Xd4, no more than 2 darts per target. 20ft Ranged Touch as Standard
    [3] Pestilence Cloak: 20% Miss Chance vs Range and Melee, Will Disbelief DC [16+X], Fly Clumsy 5+5Xft
    [0] Ditchdigger Armlets: Full Round Act to create 10x10 difficult terrain, deals 1d6+Xd6 damage. 1d4 round cooldown
    [2] Stalker's Tabi: +2+2X Acrobatics&Stealth

    Feats:
    [1] Akashic Augmentation: Chose a power. Cost is -X, only applies to Augments, can't reduce extra cost below 1. Can't invest more than power level
    -Power Selected: Natural Healing

    Racial:
    [2] Speed: +10ft*X land speed.
    [2] Natural Armor: +X Natural Armor
    [1] Spines: Two 1d4 Spine attacks as primary natural weapons. Every odd after 1 adds +1 Enhancement

    Charged Items:
    [0] Wand of Lesser Restoration
    [0] Wand of Cure Light Wounds
    [0] Wand of Invisibility
    Never can find my towel...

    So it goes.

    GNU Terry Pratchett
    Forgot who did my avatar, sorry! >.<

  30. - Top - End - #30
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    forg99rules's Avatar

    Join Date
    Dec 2015

    Default Re: The Swallowfeld Children (IC)

    Running away from the Elevator shaft Mac wasnt taking much notice of the debris falling around him, after dodging several small chunks he fails to notice the 2 large ones that are falling right in his path. after getting clipped by one of the pieces he stumbles right into the path of the other large piece. At this point Mac feels someone shove him out of the way to safety and hears Alekk in his head. "Thanks for the save, got only a Few tricks left and one of them might leave you behind if i use it to much". After having said his piece and feeling alittle more invigorated from whatever Alekk seemed to be doing to assist him Mac held a hand to his chest and cast a spell that would heal his wound even more. "Alright lets get going"

    Spoiler: Actions taken
    Show
    Casting Cure Serious Wounds rolled in OOC got a 22 total.

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