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  1. - Top - End - #1
    Titan in the Playground
     
    Spore's Avatar

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    Oct 2013

    Default Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    It is late summer. Crickets are chirping and the few farmers of the farms surrounding the town of Falcon's Hollow either enjoy the last lazy sunny days after the harvest or prepare for it. You were hired to protect a caravan from the region's largest city Oregent to Falcon's Hollow, the Vale's muddy and corrupt lumbering town.

    Spoiler: Falcon's Hollow
    Show
    Falcon’s Hollow
    A blunt, sawdust-choked stop on a winding trade route, a
    festering haven of injustice and cruelty, Falcon’s Hollow
    rests perilously close to the infamous Darkmoon Wood.
    The long shadow of Droskar’s Crag casts a shroud of gloom
    on the desperate souls who call this place home. Many come
    here to make their fortune cutting darkwood lumber in
    the lush wood, while others journey to this remote fringe
    to start over, piecing together their shattered lives on the
    edge of an untouched wilderness far from the things of
    man. Persecuted zealots and outcasts flock to Falcon’s
    Hollow to practice their strange and often deviant rites
    unfettered by the mores of civilization. Finally, Falcon’s
    Hollow lures many explorers with the promise of great
    adventure nearby. The town, its people, and everything in
    it belong to the corrupt Lumber Consortium, controlled
    by the de facto leader of the town, the loathsome Thuldrin
    Kreed. His petty decrees and the consortium’s overpriced
    goods keep the people of the town prisoner as surely as if
    Kreed and his goons used manacles and chains.
    Home to fewer than 1,500 humans and a smattering
    of other races, most of the townsfolk care only for the
    paltry coins paid for their backbreaking work and what
    simple comforts they can buy. A few, however, understand
    that what’s bad for one is bad for all, and they struggle
    endlessly with the Lumber Consortium to improve the
    lives of their neighbors—and by extension, themselves.
    The community thrives on a tenacious mix of greed,
    debauchery, and stubborn self-reliance. As much property
    of the Lumber Consortium as the buildings, cut timbers,
    and other assets in the town, the people of Falcon’s Hollow
    live in abject poverty and unending misery. Those born
    into Falcon’s Hollow (or those foolish enough to move
    there willingly—or even unwillingly) face lives filled with
    anguish and devoid of hope or betterment.


    Some of you are guests that have bought their way into the caravan as travellers, bodyguards or even merchants. It is likely one of the last caravans going to the Vale this year, as the mountains and forests can be treacherous in late summer. They can bring heavy rainfalls muddying down the roads and even snow, that cause landslides and avalanches. The late season brings also scavenging animals and monsters out of their caves. Wyverns, Trolls and other semi-intelligent wildlife have understood that a caravan usually holds a large amount of food. This one however is different.

    Spoiler: Aethon
    Show
    You travelled to Oregent to replenish your ressources of acid and base materials for explosives. Your cart carries almost exclusively alchemical reagents. Most of them are owned by the Consortium which you are allowed to use for their causes in preapproved conditions. Your barrels are unlabelled and no one knows they are transporting highly volatile and potentially dangerous items.

    You are on the verge of a decade-old experiment. When you combined Salpeter with Sulfuric Acid and an unknown additional organic solution, nothing happened. You threw the door to the lab - a dingy old mountain lodge - Thuldrin Kreed graciously provided to you (with a monthly rent of about 20 gold pieces understandably), the whole thing exploded, throwing out its door and burying you under it. Your notes were destroyed, and the hit on your head made it kind of hazy what the clear liquid actually was.

    You were graceously allowed to work off your debt to the Consortium instead of them breaking your knee caps and leaving you out for the wolves.


    Spoiler: Tahjii Running Wind
    Show
    You were hired by the dwarven caravan master, Oriton Trollbelly, to scout in the area and guide for the caravan. Not because you had the most experience, but because you looked pitiful, and you were the cheapest one around with actual skills. And you even brought your own horse, so in the case you deceased during an attack, at least the damage would be paid off easily.

    Facing heavy racism in Korvosa, Varisia's "Little Cheliax", you moved northwest to seek out a better fortune. Unfortunately, some of the Vale's occupants are actually worse than the average Korvosan, while some just value you for you.


    Spoiler: Terran Silversword
    Show
    Terran offered himself as guard willingly. It was quick and usually easy coin. Somehow he felt at home in the Darkmoon Woods. Assuming it was the air of freedom, of pure nature and away from the shackles of mankind. Things changed in the days leading up to the departure. Terran saw things in his dreams. Small reptilian creatures barging out of thick and chilling fog. A titanic wheel with people bound to it, grinding their bones. A rider upon a moonlit hill, holding a spear of pure ice.

    The actual travel with dwarven caravan master, Oriton Trollbelly was pleasant enough. You are known as a reliable healer, and while some doubt your reputation, most are happy for you to alleviate their pain once they are injured.


    Spoiler: Jhereg, Knight Aspirant of Iomedae
    Show
    Five days outside of the Vale, the pair was ambushed by a warparty led by a massive ogre, a devastating swing of it's club crushing Aegon's shoulder, and slaying his steed with horrifying display of strength and power. Aegon, mortally crippled, demanded Jhereg ride hard for Darkwood, and from there inform the order that he had fallen.

    You meet up with a peculiar caravan along the way to Falcon's Hollow. Along its occupants are an unusually large number of odd people. And while the news of your master's death was important, these people seemed they needed protection as well, if an ogre was around. The whole experience was surreal. Your way of life was changed drastically, yet the caravan was a lazy, almost enjoyable ride. Of course fury burned in your veins, and vigilance was paramount. But all the divine rage would not get this slow moving caravan to move any quicker.

    Aegon would have disapproved if you went ahead and rode to Falcon's Hollow to tell Lady Cirthana, resident priest of the town of his demise and left the caravan into the ambush. The caravan master, Oriton Trollbelly, nodded grimly at your information and promised to hustle as much as he could.


    Spoiler: Aria Lufo
    Show
    You joined the caravan under Oriton Trollbelly, a dwarf heading for Falcon's Hollow. Its timing was impeccable, and you hoped to get a bit of information from the stoutfolk merchant regarding the ancient dwarven ruins supposedly lying below the volcanic area around Droskar's Crag. It was buried there about 700 years ago, with no dwarven mining operation ever being able to reclaim anything. Recently however there are rumors of activities in the area.

    If someone knew about them, it would be the Lumber Consortium logging in the area.




    The caravan under Oriton Trollbelly meandered slowly down a treacherous mountain pass. Not because Oriton had time to loose, but because every mistake could mean a wagon would tumble down the mountain side to their doom. Below you the lush and darkgreen Darkmoon Wood was spread out, a largely coniferous forest. Sprinkled in its dense tree tops were the occasional deciduous tree, be it a grand oak, a majestic maple tree or a even a few wild apple trees.

    Tahjii scouted the front while Aria next to the leading wagon holding Oriton, coordinating the whole ordeal, assisting the caravan master. Terran assisted Aethon in making sure his load was properly bound, with the alchemist's wagon travelling in the back. The whole trek is about 5 wagons with mules, draft horses and about a dozen men excluding you protecting the caravan, with another 5 merchants and 8 travellers, most of whom took turns riding in the carts. Now however they were forced to walk and push occasionally.

    Jhereg rode in the back, watching the whole thing unfold, as a reminder how slow things were going today. Unable to ride ahead or back, the Knight Aspirant was forced to watch the whole slow process. Tahjii said there was only about half a mile left until the pass got wider. He told you about a warband led by an ogre but you have other problems right now.

    Please introduce yourselves. Tell the others how you look, what you do during daytime and evenings.
    Last edited by Spore; 2020-06-23 at 01:54 PM.
    Until further notice 21st of October, please DM me for important stuff, and let the game master control my characters

  2. - Top - End - #2
    Ogre in the Playground
    Join Date
    Sep 2017

    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Jhereg, Knight Aspirant of Iomedae
    HP's: 23 of 23 | AC: 19 | Flatfooted: 18 | Touch: 11 | CMD: 16 | FCMD: 15
    Passive Perception: 15 | Passive Sense Motive: 10
    Conditions: None.


    Jhereg was a tall, lanky young man, standing just under six feet tall, broad shoulders clad in a leather jerkin, with a well crafted, but unadorned, breastplate buckled over it. His hood was down, startling blue eyes set into a narrow face with high, sharp cheekbones, an unruly mop of straw-yellow hair shaded his brow. A thin, dull iron chain hung around his neck, something of weight pulling it beneath his plain white tabbard, emblazoned with the winged-blade of Iomedae declared his faith for all to see. Like his breastplate, the long hand and a half sword he bore on his hip was masterfully crafted, but unadorned, a heavy wooden shield was strapped to his back, embossed with iron and steel, it too, emblazoned with the stylized symbol of his patron, Iomedae.

    During the day's travels he would bring up the rear, clearly frustrated at the pace of the caravan, though too polite to vent those frustrations to his companions, or to Master Trollbelly himself. Jhereg appeared something of a jack-of-all-trades, in the days since he had joined the wagon train he had assisted the wagon masters in re-affixing a wheel that was thrown due to the muddy, rutted roads; re-shoed an oxen when Oriton noticed it's pained gait; aided Tahjii is preparing game that had been caught during the days travels, as well as brushing down and tending to the animals after a days ride.

    Careful not to impose his faith on others, after dinner and in the early morning he would plant his blade in the earth, hanging the chain he wore round his neck from it, and silently read from the collected Acts of Iomedae he carried with him. Around the campfire, he would pay attention to Corporal Lufo's stories of life in the Andoran militia, though he was similarly intrigued by the Shoanti's tales of his people and their customs.
    Last edited by Zero Prime; 2020-06-23 at 04:37 PM.

  3. - Top - End - #3
    Troll in the Playground
     
    DaOldeWolf's Avatar

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    Nov 2011
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Terran is the human with black medium shaggy sized hair with a full beard. He is quite tall and has a muscular build. His eyes are dark brown. He likes to wear a blue trimmed tunic under his breastplate though parts of it come out are properly put over the armor. He also wears brown boots with black pants. He carries a greatsword and a pretty plain looking heavy shield on his back and a heavy mace around his waist.

    Terran has been trying to assure the health and safety of everyone on the caravan. He isnt the confronting type, trying to his best to keep peace between the people. When he isnt taking care of others, he might be seen relaxing by himself seemingly even lost in though. Still, for the most part, he was a pretty open fellow, good at hearing and always respectful to others though a bit private when it came to his personal life.
    Thanks to linklele for the amazing avvy.

    Quote Originally Posted by jidasfire View Post
    On a long enough scale, every OOTS forum discussion turns into a debate about alignment, Miko, or Familicide.
    It can also turn into a Star wars debate.

  4. - Top - End - #4
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Mornings's Avatar

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    Nov 2014
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]


    Serene. The Shoanti man road forward with his eyes closed, relaxed in the saddle as if caught in a seemingly torpid state. He had road on for long, navigating thicket and brush easily and seemingly without thought. It could have been mistaken for some manner of meditative posture, rider and horse becoming one.

    The display couldn't have been farther from the truth. The hammering rattling in his skull pounded like the drums of a wild orcish hoard. The sun was a shower of knives piercing his eyes, an agonizing burning light. His head was swimming, awash in a daze of spiraling greens and shapes. The sigil-covered rider sharply sniffed twice, as if catching a scent in the air, his dark eyes opening terminating the trace-like state. He'd once met a Sklar-Quah man once who could smell a shift in weather and the approach of men. Perhaps it was merely the man's sensitivity to coming emberstorms, or the scent of ash-covered raiders, but the burn rider had seemingly always been right. Strangely though, either that particular warrior had become famous far and wide, or it was becoming a trait more common in those warriors kissed by flame, because foreigners often seemed to believe the dark-skinned 'savages' could simply catch the scent of their quarry and direction by their nose alone. Of course he was no bloodhound, in fact he'd have probably gotten lost without Kumiir guiding him. The old war horse was much wiser and much more seasoned than he. The great beast had been his friend for longer than he could recall, longer even than his journey from which he had yet returned.

    He'd been unusually more sober than normal over the last eight hours than he had been since departing Oregent, emerging from the depths of three days of moderately heavy drinking and welcomed with this horrible hangover. He'd kept to himself mostly, trying to maintain whatever sense of mystery a displaced Tamiir-Quah rider might have with such strange company. Evidently the storm-chasing horseman was vastly out of place both in terms of environment and companions, but the reason wasn't some cryptic riddle. He was in desperate need of money, and as it so happened, his labor was comparatively cheap. A fact which seemed to be reiterated each time he glanced into his thinly sagging purse. A simple escort from a city? He had been counting his blessings, or so he had thought. He hadn't been able to find a job for nearly two weeks. He was beginning to turn over a new leaf, but his past behavior had been wildly self destructive. What he hadn't drunk, he gambled, and what he hadn't gambled he spent. Fancy drinks. Things he didn't need or couldn't remember, and women. Mostly women. In retrospect, he regretted the majority of his decisions. He always seemed to get swept up in the moment, never making the wisest choices. In fact, thinking about it, he was almost certain most of the things he bought were far overpriced. A foreign man in a strange city was an easy mark for a merchant or peddler.

    ֍


    It was his first time in Andoran, but he was no stranger to its peril after having had come into the country so long ago. He simply hadn't left. After the bloody mess in Freedom Town he'd road long and hard south... His path spanned across four bitter years. He hadn't stopped. Nirmathas, Molthune and a hasty flight out of Cheliax. He had lived like a man on fire, racing as fast as he could toward a destiny he couldn't see. With each passing month, and more ground between him and that horrid grave, the screams grew slightly more quiet. His father once told him of those riders whom were possessed. Warriors haunted by dark spirits which drove them away. Riding far from their ancestors and the sacred grounds of their people, never to return. He hadn't believed it. No, back then, he couldn't believe it. Yet now he was one among their number. Some horrible beast lingered inside, shrouded in black billowing clouds without definition. Chasing him. Unrelenting. When it came, so too did those horrible sounds. In the old tales, the spirits which pursued the cursed riders pushed them towards their ultimate fate. Usually a grisly death, but sometimes... rarely, a glorious future. When he had crossed the boarder, the cries suddenly fell silent. The first enduring peace he'd found in what had felt like a lifetime. Unexpectedly freed from his unnatural burden, he did what any man would have done... Celebrate.

    Almas had been a dangerous city for a man with a heavy purse and a lack of self restraint. While he might have been tormented by terrible things he couldn't adequately describe in the common tongue, he did possess all the wealth and earnings of his murdered companions. Wealth which when awarded was revealed to be notably... significant. He'd spent a few years in the city, taking a few odd jobs investigating businesses for the Aspis Consortium, and spending his nights across every corner of the Liberty District, gambling his pay into profit and thanking Chaldira's luck. Tahjii wasn't wise, but he wasn't as daft as to bet all his money at once. Though he mostly just enjoyed playing the games, he slowly turned his wealth into a small fortune over time. Then, suddenly, the screams returned. It was without warning, rousing him from his slumber in the arms of a beautiful woman whose name he forgot. A stiff shot of strong whisky dulled the familiar voices in his mind, offering a new solution to an old problem. The more he drank, the less he heard. He had almost laughed to himself at how simple it was... At the time, it had seemed so funny. So easy. It wasn't easy. Each day he quieted the howling, it grew stronger with the next. Stronger drinks, more often. He couldn't focus, he couldn't think. He was bleeding money, fastly loosing the wealth he'd won to buy another day without torment. It was then he'd made his crazed escape from the city without bars. North. It had to be north.

    Lacking all manner of luck or restraint, he came into Oregent as a man unhinged. He never won a game. He never found a job. His remaining gold was poorly spent. Within a month he'd eaten, drunken, gambled and whored his way through nearly every coin left to his name... But the voices were quiet. He was a living ruin of himself, and things only became more difficult the longer he idled. It was all he could do to sell information, sightings and gossip. It was barely worth anything, but it was still more than nothing. He couldn't fight like he used to, not after loosing his leg in the battle. He slept with the horses. For only a few copper a night, a stable was cheap, but it took a toll on the spirit. When things had became more than he could bear, the contemplation of an unending dark suddenly seemed far more preferable than the shame and agony which tormented him each new day. Men had stood before Pharasma for far less than a lack of courage or resilience. He needed a second chance... A new beginning.

    With the last of his grit and perseverance hanging by a thread, he sold his bow. Not just a bow. No, it had been Rayes' weapon. The finely crafted darkwood bow had been one of the last things he had left from the man who had practically been his own father, after leaving his homeland. It had become a bittersweet memento of those years, and of the man he had grown to deeply respect. In the wake of the fires and destruction of the violent clash, he couldn't even fully recover the man's remains. Instead burying the bits of the man's burnt bloodied leather armor he could find. It had been hard to stomach, and he never felt a sense of closure, but it had to be enough. He couldn't hold onto those moments forever. He had to let it go. It was that bow which bought him his 'second chance' and an unexpected reunion with an old friend. The ever mysterious she-merchant and seer, Lalic, purchased the weapon from him and offered him wise words. A suggestion to 'accept himself and be free.' Tahjii was a lot of things, but interpreter to prophetic council was not one of them. His family had long held the seeress in high regard, and his own father had been an exceptionally wise and deeply spiritual man. If that man had not dismissed her words, he surely could not either. Wrong or right, he simply interpreted her words to mean 'profit off of his foreign origins.' He'd made every effort to disguise himself and obscure his features up until that point, fearful of the repercussions were he to be too ostentatious in his manner about such a far flung region.

    All subtlety abandoned. Caution thrown to the wind. Tahjii embraced the seer's misunderstood words in full. The brazen wild colors of his traditional clothes returned. He painted the familiar intricate spiraling sigils across the face of his horse, tying his mane with familiar boldly colored feathers and filling the spaces of the animal's barding with complex knotty symbols. Labyrinthine script detailing excerpts from the many paths they had rode together. Like a storm of color spat into a dull monochrome world, he draw much attention, not all of which was positive. Quickly he learned to capitalize on the myth, misunderstandings or simple misinformation many people held, embracing the falsehoods and creating a somewhat exaggerated persona. He couldn't overturn the racism or the opinions of every clueless dolt he happened across, but he could capitalize on it. The mysterious foreigner... The idea sold, at least somewhat. The occasional job as a cartographer paid far better than anything else he'd ever been offered, and a general belief seemed to exist that the 'wild men' were naturally skilled surveyors and survivalists. Which... may have been somewhat true for traditional clansmen in their own homeland. No one knew the lay of the land like they did. Yet, he wasn't like them.

    Tahjii had left that way of life to prove his mettle as a warrior when he was barely just a man. He'd spent his fifteenth birthday with Rayes and their motley crew sharing cups at the Shoreline Drinkhall, celebrating with friends and even some Endrin guardsmen the old man knew. He'd gotten into his first bar fight in the Sticky Mermaid after some sorry sod called him a Horser. His adulthood hadn't been spent foraging roots and telling the turns of the weather, he was an urban man, those skills he had learned in his youth had rusted remarkably. In large part, he was simply making things work as he went, but it was a reality-check he hadn't been expecting. Despite his age, and the handful of battles he'd fought with his departed friends, he was shamefully unaccomplished. He even struggled remembering those feats which were once effortless. So much time had been spent running from his own demons, so little had been invested in further developing himself.

    It was a bitter pill to swallow, but it was never too late to start over again. A plan had begun to take shape in his mind. He would save money, ween himself off his poor habits and re-dedicate himself towards his warrior training, leaving this miserable place. Perhaps... Bravoy. He'd stop in Kyonin first of course, the weapon arts of the elves was practically myth. With redoubled effort he'd train and challenge great warriors and beasts across the Inner Sea... and for a while, he did. However, the employment opportunities which were already irregular begun to trickle off, until stopping completely. With nearly enough funds and resources set aside, his efforts were thwarted at the finish line. With little other option, he spent the time training his body to keep his mind focused, waiting for his opportunity to finally come... and it did come. In the form of a man. Oriton Trollbelly.

    ֍

    At first he couldn't believe his luck. A scout for a convoy? What a simple job. It was even going in the right direction. He could finish the job, acquire new provisions and make for the southern passage through the Five Kings Mountain into Druma. By next summer he could be in Kyonin! Tahjii sighed to himself. What hopelessly naive thinking. He could only have thought that because he'd never ventured so far north though the treacherous woodland reaches of Andoran. Even a seasoned woodland surveyor would have been hard pressed to navigate the less traveled and slow-going maze-like paths hidden beneath the sea of trees. He'd gotten by thus far with the information he'd gathered from various passersby and farmers during their stops, but the mounting stress as they approached their destination was terrifying. Even under the circumstances, he was proud of himself for his newfound tolerance and moderation of his drinking. It wasn't about the voices anymore, they'd gone quiet. It was simply a habit he couldn't let go. There was something in his mind which relied on the numbing fog of a drunken stupor, but he didn't let it dull his senses to a degree which would be debilitating. Yes, he had spent three days hammering down more than some men could stomach, but far from the norm he might imbibe. Alcoholism was another devil in his mind, but one he resolved he could defeat a little at a time.

    Tahjii leaned back as his large horse slowly navigated an unsteady and rocky decline. The rumors of raiders and an ogre war-chief was a worry which scratched at the back of his skull, but he put the concern aside to focus on the task at hand. Despite the improvisation, he'd done right by the caravan thus far. Though, he had originally thought the current pass would have reached its expanse a mile ago, the signs only just started to reveal themselves and he was glad he had kept his mouth shut until now. As he came off the loose and rocky soil he pat Kumiir on the side of his hide-clad neck, *("What have we gotten ourselves into, my friend.") Pointing with his massive blackish-gray lance the way he'd just crossed to bring it to attention, he spoke out to the lead wagon, "Mind the loose soil there, you may catch a wheel."
    *(Denotes Shoanti Speech)

    The unnatural weapon was a curiosity in its own right. Seemingly hewn from a solid piece of deeply figured basalt, lines of white raced along spatterings of its surface like veins while deep blacks and grays intermingled. The highly polished rocky shaft of the long spear was adorned with lavishly intricate whirling spirals and twisting sigils deeply engraved into its octagonal faceted faces. A long twisting cord of frantic blue and piercing azure shades protruded from the highly sculpted pommel ring which seemed to be shaped to resemble the turning of a funnel made of clouds. The long weapon cord was tightly coiled around the lower half of the weapon, terminating at a ceremonial knot with a loop which Tahjii had passed his hand through. The piercing head of the polearm was covered with a thick rigid sheath of richly embossed leather firmly fitted to the blade of the weapon. There were few in these lands whom could read the elegant script pressed into the finely made sheath, though the bold sigil of the Tamiir-Quah was somewhat more obvious. Each time Tahjii's eyes passed over the name preserved in the leather, the sense of pride he felt swell up inside pushed back his fears, his anxieties and even his crippling addictions.

    His eyes begun to scan the overgrown path laid out before them. Even if he wasn't fit to be a real scout, that didn't mean he didn't owe it to his companions to give it every effort he had. After all it was more than one man's livelihood on the line, it was their lives and their futures. This was the chance he'd paid for, he wouldn't bury his comrades again. Again and again, he repeated the name in his mind. He could see the figure of the characters upon the weapon even when he wasn't looking. He wouldn't perish like the other spirit riders from the folktales of old. He'd face his fate, and he'd return home to fulfill his promise. He swore it to himself. Just as he swore it upon that name...

    An unbreakable oath to his father, those letters.
    'Kuoja Who Thunders'




    Spoiler: OOC: Checks
    Show

    ✥ Perception Vs Environment (1d20+2)[12]
    ✥ Knowledge (Local) Vs Falcon's Hallow Local Threats (1d20+5)[21]
    ✥ Knowledge (Nature) Vs Potential Dangerous Creatures & Their Ecology(1d20+5)[13]


    Spoiler: Character Details
    Show
    Tahjii Running Wind
    Sheet

    Shoanti (Human) - Tamiir-Quah | Divine Marksman Ranger/Investigator UC Rogue
    Player: Mornings

    DEFENSE
    ⛨ HP 17/17
    ⛨ AC 20, Touch 13, Flat-footed 17, CMD 16
    Fort 3, Ref 6, Will -2
    Speed 20 | Init 3

    OFFENCE
    CMB +3, Base Attack Bonus +1

    MELEE
    Kuachet, Piercing Earth (Irespan Basalt Lance) +4 (1d8+2, x3)

    RANGED
    ⯎ x3 Crystal Branch (Glass Shortspear) +3 (1d6+2, x2)
    ⯎ x8 Glass Chakram +4 (1d8+2, x2)

    STATISTICS
    Abilities Str 14, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 7, Cha 14
    Condition None

    Last edited by Mornings; 2020-06-24 at 11:18 AM.

  5. - Top - End - #5
    Barbarian in the Playground
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    Sep 2013
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    UK
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Aethon is an elf, with white hair and a general lack of eyebrows. He spends most of his time tinkering with various foul-smelling substances he always seems to have on his person, mixing them and heating them over small flames. On one evening during the trip, a loud "Bang!" startled the caravan, who looked over to find Aethon picking shards of glass out of his hair and grinning with delight. He's joined the caravan as a traveller with his own cart of goods to transport - several tightly sealed but otherwise nondescript boxes which he doesn't allow anyone else to come near.

  6. - Top - End - #6
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Deadguy's Avatar

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    Jun 2015

    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Aria Lufo, Inspiring Commander

    The trip was just what Aria had needed. It made her feel alive again. A purpose was the key. There was a regimented way the day occurred and concluded. Each evening, she took the time to care for her horse, pitch her tent, and tend to her armor and weapons. It was not much different than the forced marches she had been subjected to while in the service. There was one difference, these tradesmen did not seem to bristle so much at her sharp tongue. Or perhaps they felt no place to admonish her for it. The dwarf, Trollbelly, seemed to particularly enjoy her curt dealings with the foolish or misguided whining of the merchants.

    ֍

    She had hoped to strike up some manner of conversation with him about the local legends of his people, but the activities of the day always seemed to impose. As if on cue, their scout called back about loose rocks. It snapped her attention back to the now. Moving her horse up to the location, she held the position for the carts to guide around. Hopefully, Trollbelly intended on resting at Falcon's Hollow for a time before taking a caravan back to the city. That would give her some time to broach the subject she had traveled all this way for.

    As the Shoanti road forward again, she couldn't help but pay him some mind. He reeked of alcohol for the first length of the trip and seemed to be suffering now due to the indulgence. Plenty of soldiers were the exact same. Each stipend spent at the taverns, only to suffer during their watches. Her father was the same. Aria couldn't grasp what would drive someone to such lengths of self-destruction. It was like a bottomless hole. She refused to ever partake in her comrade's nights out. The wounds of her youngest memories were still exposed, fresh in her mind. Perhaps the time in prison would drive that desire from her father, but she had reservations about hope.

    ֍

    Once the carts had all safely passed the loose rocks, Aria rode at a trot to catch the lead wagon. There was a stiffness to her handling of the reigns. The lack of comfort was slight, but noticeable. Calvary, she was not. It was evident that she had some training, familiar with the care of the animals, harnesses, bits, and saddles. But it was not her natural environment.

    She tucked a strand of ivory hair behind her ear as she reached the side of the lead wagon again. "I'm a bit surprised that the Consortium hasn't set up rest stations along the route. It'd be much easier to clear and hold a bunker or old mining shaft overnight than an open camp." It was small talk, something to pass the time, but also the slightest of hooks, fishing for information.




    Spoiler: OOC: Checks
    Show

    ✥ Perception Vs Environment (1d20+5)[17]
    ✥ Diplomacy Vs Gather Information (1d20+5)[25]


    Spoiler: Character Details
    Show
    Aria Lufo
    Sheet

    Human | Cavalier (Inspiring Commander)
    Player: Deadguy

    DEFENSE
    ⛨ HP 16/16
    ⛨ AC 18, Touch 12, Flat-footed 16, CMD 16
    Fort 3, Ref 2, Will 0
    Speed 30 | Init 5

    OFFENCE
    CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus +1

    MELEE
    Guisarme +5 (2d4+3, x3)

    RANGED
    Light Crossbow +4 (1d8, 19-20 / x2)

    STATISTICS
    Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 10
    Condition None
    Last edited by Deadguy; 2020-06-24 at 11:45 AM.

  7. - Top - End - #7
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    An hour later, the treacherous mountain pass is history as your trek begins its most dangerous part. Down in the valley, you travel along the tree line of the Darkmoon Wood. You come across a burnt down ruin of a larger large cabin in the woods. Its charred wooden walls still stand like a sunburnt carcass, but the roof has caved in and is missing. The fire is ages ago, and inquiring with the others, it is apparent that this was Elara’s Halfway House; an orphanage about halfway between Olfden and Falcon's Hollow amidst the woods. It is said the ruins are actually haunted and cursed, so the trek speeds up.

    The Lumber Consortium's Main Camp should be straight ahead and marks your last stop before venturing into Falcon's Hollow. It is a mandatory stop as you are required to drop off provisions and a few people there. The people, as Aria learns, are usually not ones that are wanted in most other parts of the country. And with many of them, their fugitive status is not deserved.

    Spoiler: Aria
    Show

    A halfling family consisting of two daughters and their father are fugitive slaves from Cheliax, a single shady drunkard is supposed to wanted for assaulting half a dozen women and murdering three men. Not many are here to look for trouble, most are here to hide. If you tell them you are here for the Lumber Consortium's generous offer to rid them of trouble from the woods, they tell you that no thousand gold pieces are worth dealing with that. A woman in fancy revealing clothing tells you to double check the fine print. Apparently she is travelling there as an entertainer. You notice the lack of instruments or story books.


    Spoiler: Tahjii
    Show
    Nature: The Darkmoon Vale is home to many dangerous beasts. Vile wolves of any size and color are wide spread in the woods, and fey are said to haunt the forests, enjoy to mislead travellers until exhaustion.

    Local: As for local threats, there are two dangerous druid sects in the woods. The Druids of the Night Pack mostly are or are allied to werewolves, beasts with thick impenetrable hides. Only silver weapons and magic spells are able to penetrate their vast forms.You should also keep away from this fangs as they contract the curse of lycantrophy themselves. The other sect is the Druids of the Third Veil, who believe a foreign spirit is trapped in every being. Usually they try to liberate these spirits by murdering their supposed captors.

    Perception: The forest edge is silent enough as most wildlife does not dare travel outside the protective veil of the trees. You notice a few deer, but they are either rather big specimen that can take a few wolves or their well-guarded offspring. Any attempt at hunting them would require a coordinated effort.


    The Lumber Consortium’s main mamp is a efficient and profitable camp. It stands amid an ugly swath of clearcutting roughly 15 miles from Falcon’s Hollow. Five sturdy log buildings—a bunkhouse, a meal hall, an office, a barn, and a smithy—comprise the camp, which provides for roughly 30 men. Scattered amid the sawdust-coveredclearing surrounding the buildings are numerous wide, heavy carts and sleds.The Lumber Consortium owns this hard-working camp and employs all its residents. Most of the men here work as lumbermen, and all 23 of them sleep in the bunkhouse. The camp’s boss, Jarlben Trookshavits, lives in a small room
    tacked onto the outside of the filthy and taxidermy-filled office (in which he works). Similar small rooms attached to the well-organized barn and the junk-filled smithy house their caretakers as well. Several wanderers and woodsmen who explore Darkmoon Wood for the Lumber Consortium (ever looking for new copses of darkwood and other valuable resources) use the camp as a base of operations, taking warm meals here on occasion and bedding down in the bunkhouse during particularly foul weather. Experienced tracker and hunter Milon Rhoddam is one of these itinerate residents, though he is absent at the moment.

    A'right, we stop to load off the goods and the new workers. We will depart in an hour. I want to get to Falcon's Hollow tonight and not sleep in this disgustin' ditch. Hurry, hurry. You are not assigned any jobs other than making sure the thing is going smoothly, whatever this means. Few lumberjacks remain in the camp right now, most are out in the woods. You meet a few who want to travel to Falcon's Hollow to collect their pay, two of them, a young blonde slender boy and an overweight, but muscular lumberjack are lying in the sun, their arm and torso covered in dirty blood drenched rags.
    Until further notice 21st of October, please DM me for important stuff, and let the game master control my characters

  8. - Top - End - #8
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]


    An hour. Time wasn't an accurate measure of distance, but he had imagined they would have parted with the dubious pass earlier than that. The convoy had been slow going since reaching the trecherous expanse, yet he still felt like he'd failed to make an accurate estimate in there advancement. His employer, Mr. Trollbelly, didn't seem to mind though. He could only question if his own expectations were too high, or if his boss' were too low. In the end he was just another excuse of cheap labor, but in his experiences as a young man riding with his Tamiir brothers, accounting for such disparities was a necessity. How long and how far one could ride, and what would impede them and when. A true rider who could survive the wilds during a venture across the Storval Plateau could properly track all of these considerations while they interpreted the weather. It was a matter of life and death. He wanted to groan, but maintained his prideful outward composure. *("Just when did you become wiser than me?") He could feel the horse grunt beneath him in response, as if to imply such a thing was a given. Tahjii was sure Kumiir was far more intelligent than he.
    *(Denotes Shoanti Speech)

    The cresting of the untamed sprawling wildness beyond the tree line reminded him of a great green ocean. He'd seen many trees before, after all he'd braved the Fangwood to come this far already. However, unlike during his ride through Nirmathas, he didn't have a friend to guide him, and where the Fangwood was filled with an almost physical sense of vibrancy except in its deepest groves, the Darkmoon Wood was seemingly always still and foreboding. In times like these he wished Karea could show him the way if even just for one more time. Zekeli Karea, the Varisian Foxclaw who'd shown him though the troubled lands south of the Marideth River, had become his steadfast ally after aiding the crazed trapper's escape during a surprise skirmish with Molthuni imperial soldiers. The mad Varisian had rode with him directly into the mouth of the empire, and across the boarder in a frenzied dash he would never forget. After reaching safety they parted ways. Were it not for the voices which had tormented him, he might have never left the Nirmathi wood. As he watched the slow procession of deer quietly creep by seemingly unnoticed by his companions, he could only hope the wild ranger was doing well.

    He made certain to note the care the denizens of the forest took in avoiding them. Creatures whom were uncomfortable in the presence of men, or perhaps their number. In places like the Fangwood where movements of fighters in mass was often and frequent, the beasts were far less skittish, and equally dangerous. Though who could blame the beast's reclusive nature, there was something surreal in the air beneath the branches and boughs of this place. Something he couldn't quite place. As the sight of the burned-out building's husk came into view, Tahjii's skin begun to crawl. A prickling itch that simply would not relent. All the talk of haunting's and curses didn't seem so far fetched, though the truth often seemed to be much more complex than that. There was something eerie about the charred ruin he couldn't describe. A foreboding. As if something without name had lingered there, and while he considered sweeping the structure's perimeter to ensure the caravan's security, he was all the more glad to move on.

    It hadn't been lost on him that such claims of 'hauntings' could very well have been the meddling of inhabitants of the First World. Having had his share of torment at the hands of Unseelie in the further reaches of the Southern Fangwood, he'd developed mixed feelings for the fey. Something between caution and hesitant anxiety, but he tried to push those thoughts away. Magical creatures were inherently troublesome things and it was best if they could remain a thing to be avoided. The rumors he'd gathered on the way of beasts and dire wolves of every imaginable size and color was no balm to his many concerns, but warranted more consideration than meddlesome fairies. Attacks by a pack of such creatures upon a traveling band was not so strange a thing, and he feared the slow moving wagons might appear as a target too tempting to resist. As the sight of the main camp rose up into his vision the reality finally settled in. Only fifteen miles left between them and their destination. Only the gods knew what would follow. The gods, and the spirits ushering him forward. It was a dangerous, but short final stretch. If there would be any conflict he imagined it would come sometime between now, within the camp, or before the point they entered the reclusive town and concluded their journey. If he'd learned anything from gambling, it was how luck had a funny way of running dry the closer you crept towards victory.

    ֍

    Tahjii quickly took stock of the camp and his fellow guardsmen and more eccentric character's as the caravan begun to fill in behind him. He was merely a scout rather than muscle, but the dwarf seemed to have wisely re-invested the money he'd saved by employing him into paying for the men-at-arms escorting the convoy. Having rode in advance, he hadn't met every soul aboard, or shared words with the various passengers often. However, he couldn't complain about his employer's choice of fighting men.. or women. Female soldiers weren't the most common sight, so he hadn't expected such a person to be in their company. Sometimes he tried to ride slower, a subtle effort to creep back from the front closer towards the dame, but Kumiir simply picked up his pace thwarting his advances. While his drinking might have been becoming more manageable, he was still weak to the influence of the fairer sex. After the first few days of this, he decided his friend probably knew what was best. It would have been difficult to maintain his stoic appearance if he started acting the fool now, leaving months of work and his reputation in the gutter. Aside from her, the others seemed fairly capable in their own regard. He didn't know all of their names, but the muscular man with the large greatsword didn't look like any pushover. He'd seen one of the other fighting men seem to pray often, though he truthfully wasn't certain of the nature of the gesture, he only hoped whatever the man's faith it wouldn't still his sizable blade in battle.

    At first sight, his first thought was of catching a quick meal at the muddied canteen off in the distance, even if it was only fifteen miles, turning down food when the opportunity presented itself was foolish. The meal hall faded from his mind with the sight of blood. The words from the young farmer repeated again and again in his mind, becoming shorter and more abridged each time until only one word remained. 'Lycantrophy'. *("Sheit...") With a sharp gesture he spun his lance into a reversed grip and snapped it into the large circular brass ring and plate fixed to the saddle to hold the weapon. Tahjii was a betting man and if he was at a table, he'd wager on an attack by wolves, infighting between loggers, or other hostile fauna which lived in these woods... but this wasn't the table. The abandoned ruins had left him spooked and he wrung his hands together to keep them from shaking. It was a challenge to keep his mind from racing out of control. The version of himself which existed inside his mind was a brave man, self glorified for his courage and his actions from some decade or more ago, but these last months had proven to have been a moment of great self reflection. He wasn't that man anymore, he'd come to terms with that. The one thing he'd learned to do well since his flight from the Hold of Belkzen was running. No would could deny he was damn good at it, but those habits of escape had made him flighty and nervous, sensitive to an almost feral precognitive sense of danger. Both the dangers that were real, and imaginative. Like branches of a tree, his thoughts could span all manner of explanations without validity, and phantom foes lurking in shadows which didn't exist.

    With certainty, his logical mind expressed the likelihood of a natural threat, which wasn't at odds with what he already understood as hazards of the local area. Yet, his fear weighed heavy, screaming out at some unexplained illogical and supernatural evil. *("Someone's luck ran out... Pray ours isn't next to flee.") With an easy gesture he shook his false-leg free from the small iron prong attached to his right stirrup hobble. A device which had provided a much needed support to the prosthetic limb while riding for extended duration's. With the support hook free, he lifted the wooden limb from the painted stirrup and swung his leg over to ride side-saddle, granting him access to the various packs and supplies fixed unto the massive steed. While his leg might have been made of wood, it appeared more like a decorative piece of furniture, with all manner of tribal engravings etched into its every surface and highlighted with white paint. Pulling open one of the large bags behind him, he retrieved a rack of eight thin rings. A sharp gesture flipped aside the robe-like folds of the lower half of his armored vestment, revealing a curious iron clasp fixed from a secondary harness beneath his protective garments. Nimbly he fixed the circular rings to the fastener, strange semi-clear blades filled with twists of bluish hues. The with weapons secured, he flipped the folds of his armor back in place to quiet the rattle of the blade's movement.

    After a moment he begun fitting his arms with additional protective articles he'd foregone while scouting their path. The extended bronze vambrace he secured through the loops in the long silk sleeves tied into the armored coat, was sculpted to appear as the head and back of a great storm roc. The antique guard was well worn and blade-scarred from numerous battles, none of which being his own. The simple darkened steel of the gauntlet he begun to cinch down on his fighting hand was older, but relatively undamaged. Plainly filled with small scratches from years of regular, but non-strenuous service. While fixing the steel glove in place he brought his leg back over and ushered his horse forward without his hands to get a closer look at the torn men. It was still a bit early to start investing in silvered bolts, and while he would have preferred to set off much sooner than an hour, the thought of having something hostile upon their heels was an unsettling thought. That anxiety impelled him, demanding he secure answers before succumbing to the ghoulish frights in his mind. Gesturing towards the nearest man he could see he spoke out, "What happened to these men?" As habits went, he had learned that both the tendency to lie or distort the truth were concerns during any inquiry. In Almas it had simply been about business, but here were bitter spiteful men had something to gain in the sheer entertainment value of base misdirection, he couldn't trust one man's words. It was always best to hear the accounts of multiple persons, and so he made the effort to ask the same question again to another passerby shortly after.

    Spoiler: OOC: Checks
    Show
    SKILL CHECKS
    Perception | 12 - Take 10
    (Are the wounded men living or dead)
    Knowledge (Nature) | (1d20+5)[21]
    (Are the wounds from an animal)
    Knowledge (Local) | (1d20+5)[7]
    (Elara's Halfway House)
    Follow Up (Ex) Diplomacy | (1d20+6)[21] | (1d20+6)[20]
    (Gather Information: What happened to the loggers)
    DETAILS
    ⯌ Follow Up (Ex): An investigator can roll twice on any
    Diplomacy check made to gather information, and receives
    the information for both results. This takes the same amount
    of time as one check. If the lesser of the two checks reveals
    false information, the rogue is aware of it. False information
    is not revealed in this way if the people she questioned do
    not know it to be false. This ability replaces trapfinding.





    Spoiler: Character Details
    Show
    Tahjii Running Wind
    Sheet

    Shoanti (Human) - Tamiir-Quah | Divine Marksman Ranger/Investigator UC Rogue
    Player: Mornings

    DEFENSE
    ⛨ HP 17/17
    ⛨ AC 20, Touch 13, Flat-footed 17, CMD 16
    Fort 3, Ref 6, Will -2
    Speed 20 | Init 3

    OFFENCE
    CMB +3, Base Attack Bonus +1

    MELEE
    Kuachet, Piercing Earth (Irespan Basalt Lance) +4 (1d8+2, x3)

    RANGED
    ⯎ x3 Crystal Branch (Glass Shortspear) +3 (1d6+2, x2)
    ⯎ x8 Glass Chakram +4 (1d8+2, x2)

    STATISTICS
    Abilities Str 14, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 7, Cha 14
    Condition None

    Last edited by Mornings; 2020-06-25 at 03:52 AM.

  9. - Top - End - #9
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Terran decides to help carrying up the goods and helping move any other things. He is in good physical condition andhe doesnt really mind especially if this mean that they were going to advance much sooner. "If anyone needs me. I am up for any other tasks that may arise. I am here to help, afterall. Dont be shy to ask." He declares trying to show his disposition.
    Thanks to linklele for the amazing avvy.

    Quote Originally Posted by jidasfire View Post
    On a long enough scale, every OOTS forum discussion turns into a debate about alignment, Miko, or Familicide.
    It can also turn into a Star wars debate.

  10. - Top - End - #10
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Aria Lufo, Inspiring Commander

    Finally! Aria was free from the confines of the saddle. She dismounted quickly and stretched, knowing that her legs wouldn't be agreeable to instantaneous action. Rubbing her jaw, she looked toward those she had gotten to know, if only slightly. It was irksome that people would be put in these types of situations. It was more irksome that she had to chew her lip to avoid stating her mind on the matter, lest she find her pay withheld. The woman's plight was the most frustrating. Entertainer. A fancy title for a lady of the night, another thing to keep the coin out of the pockets of the workers and their minds off the real problems. She couldn't help but wonder how guarded she would have to be herself. Not so different from the military...

    ֍

    Aria noticed the injured men at almost the exact same to as Tahjii. She whistled and called to the one who had made it known that he was a healer. "There's a few here that could use your expertise." Sick and bloodied men had a certain scent, it was appealing to the things she had been payed to guard against. A bit of healing and washing now could prevent attracting such attention entirely. To Aria, the investment seemed worth it




    Spoiler: OOC: Checks
    Show

    ✥ None


    Spoiler: Character Details
    Show
    Aria Lufo
    Sheet

    Human | Cavalier (Inspiring Commander)
    Player: Deadguy

    DEFENSE
    ⛨ HP 16/16
    ⛨ AC 18, Touch 12, Flat-footed 16, CMD 16
    Fort 3, Ref 2, Will 0
    Speed 30 | Init 5

    OFFENCE
    CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus +1

    MELEE
    Guisarme +5 (2d4+3, x3)

    RANGED
    Light Crossbow +4 (1d8, 19-20 / x2)

    STATISTICS
    Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 10
    Condition None
    Last edited by Deadguy; 2020-06-26 at 02:17 PM.

  11. - Top - End - #11
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Tahjiii approaches the loggers and asks them about their injuries. Before answering the other one scans the Shoanti from head to toe.

    Wouldn't you like to know, horser. he spits out, standing up and coming uncomfortably close. Loggers have accidents. Nun' o'yer business.

    The younger one adds in a cocky tone. Aye, because the typical logger axes himself in the arm, Johnsen. Yer a ****ing dolt. he stands up, a bit more amicably he adds. We took a bit too long to get our haul back here. A pack o' wolves attacked us. We were lucky to survive.

    Nah because o' yer bravery, Max. You pissed your pants while I strangled one. Tahjii knew when to shut up to let the others slip on their words and tell you more than they wanted.

    What are yer lookin' at, ya nosey bugger. Wanna have at it? Johnsen boasts at Tahjii. I could take two o' you with a worg bitin my arse off. Quickly a crowd gathers, with a few people setting up a gambling ring. Johnsen is the favorite, but quite a few bet on Tahjii due to the fact Johnsen is injured.

    Spoiler: Tahjii
    Show
    You heard of spirits roaming the place of their untimely demise. But you lack knowledge of the area to determine if this could be accurate.
    As far as you can read Johnsen, he is just bored and not actually as annoyed by you.
    Last edited by Spore; 2020-06-27 at 07:11 AM.
    Until further notice 21st of October, please DM me for important stuff, and let the game master control my characters

  12. - Top - End - #12
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Aethon has to a few barrels to deliver to the foreman, and enlists Terran's help in moving them into a nearby shed. "Whatever you do, don't let them leak." The barrels prove quite heavy, but the job is eventually done - with Terran contributing rather more than Aethon in terms of raw strength. Aethon offers his thanks, makes a vague comment about repaying the favour in the future, and wanders over to see the excitement the Shoanti is causing.

    Spoiler: Terran, Perception DC10
    Show
    As you're carrying the barrels you notice a sulphurous smell coming from them.

  13. - Top - End - #13
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Jhereg, Knight Aspirant of Iomedae
    HP's: 23 of 23 | AC: 19 | Flatfooted: 18 | Touch: 11 | CMD: 16 | FCMD: 15
    Passive Perception: 15 | Passive Sense Motive: 10
    Conditions: None.


    Noticing the throng beginning to form around Tahjii and Corporal Lufo, Jhereg decided to step forward. He bowed before the larger man, arms spread to his side, "You misinterpret my comparison's intent. Your wounds could grow foul if intended, he is merely concerned for your welfare." The young man paused, "I'm sorry, I forget my manners, my name is Jhereg, an aspirant to the Knights of Ozem. There are worse the wolves and worgs in the woods, this I have observed for myself. However, Johnsen, is it? Should you wish to purchase passage to Falcon's Hollow, I will speak with Master Trollbelly on your behalf, and pay for your passage and that of your companion," he nodded towards the slender youth, Max, "from my own coin." Another pause, "You had best allow Lady Cirthana to tend that wound, lest rot set in and you lose the hand."

  14. - Top - End - #14
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Quote Originally Posted by pi4t View Post
    Aethon has to a few barrels to deliver to the foreman, and enlists Terran's help in moving them into a nearby shed. "Whatever you do, don't let them leak." The barrels prove quite heavy, but the job is eventually done - with Terran contributing rather more than Aethon in terms of raw strength. Aethon offers his thanks, makes a vague comment about repaying the favour in the future, and wanders over to see the excitement the Shoanti is causing.

    Spoiler: Terran, Perception DC10
    Show
    As you're carrying the barrels you notice a sulphurous smell coming from them.
    Terran assists with the request. "Its a pleasure to be of assistance." Terran replies trying to be polite. "If you need help with anything else, I am always available. I am also your guy if you need hlep with any injuries" Terran decides to add. While he wasnt the one to speak much about his origins, he was always trying to help others with his special skills.
    Thanks to linklele for the amazing avvy.

    Quote Originally Posted by jidasfire View Post
    On a long enough scale, every OOTS forum discussion turns into a debate about alignment, Miko, or Familicide.
    It can also turn into a Star wars debate.

  15. - Top - End - #15
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Oy, blondie. I was having a fun time with horse boy over there. This does not concern you. He approaches Jhereg, his hands out wide. In a quick and powerful motion, he thrusts his arms forward, trying to push the knight in training into the dirt, but fails. Got a bit of posture there, ey? Whatcha saying. Me versus you, max fights horsey boy. Wrassling. If your shoulder touch the ground 3 seconds you loose.

    Hey, I did not consent to this. Max yells from beyond the ring that slowly forms around you. Didn't axe you that, did I? The young man spits out and enters the circle.

    Spoiler
    Show
    It will be a simple comparison of strength, and possible grapple feats. Five rolls done in a single post to speed things up.

    Bets are taken in silver pieces. When people figured out the rates, it is
    Jhereg : Johnsen 3 : 2. Johnsen is bulkier than you and well known for this.
    Tahjii : Max 3 : 2. People actually feel Max was just pulled into this. He is a young strong lad, but still having a rather slender frame.


    Aethon and Terran try to finish their work as a starry-eyed halfling girl approaches them. What are you doing there? It seems important. I can help you. she tries to lift a small box, which she fails to do. Forgot to drink my milk today. That is why. She is about to tear up, but pushes the feelings back down. Her eyes well with tears, but she is not crying. If I work hard, I can afford milk again. And then I will be as strong as you are.

    As Aria scans the perimeter of the camp for guards or lack thereof, she sees no one. In fact you recall a few of the mercenaries trying to garner her attention in the last two nights, to all of whom she refused. She is a slender girl with fire-red hair, you assume her heritage is the region of Qadira or Osirion, she was 'invited' to work at Falcon's Hollow, the 'Ruby of the Sands' she was called.

    She does not look happy, sitting on her own on a crate, legs crossed. She is rather nonplussed by the commotion happening around Tahjii. You saw your comrades vanish into quite a few of these disreputable establishments. If the men were too distracted by their nightly escapades, the corporal would punish them, but whatever happened in there, stayed in there.
    Until further notice 21st of October, please DM me for important stuff, and let the game master control my characters

  16. - Top - End - #16
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]


    There was a constantly tilting scale inside the man. On one end there was his logical mind, and on the either his careless heart. Often his heart won out over reason, and so when the uncouth woodsman began to speak he sharply stood in his saddle. A half-second was the only thing restraining the irate half-drunk rider from diving through the air upon the woodman and punching him in the face, as a friend interjected. The guardsman named Jhereg spoke. His words gave Tahjii enough time to rein himself in and regain a measure of composure. He sat back down in his saddle, nodding towards the guardsman as he dismounted. Wrestling wasn't so strange a thing, contests of strength were more common for boys who'd yet received their name, as contests of arms were less frequent between adolescent warriors. Though such competition could just as readily be a game between men, it was good entertainment. "I had thought the Ox wanted to fight, but he just wants to play." He slid out one arm out from under his armored robes to get a better range of motion, giving his shoulder a few turns to limber up. "Lets play then." Tahjii took a last swig from a flask before tucking it into a saddle bag and followed suit with the smaller lumberman, approaching the ring.

    Spoiler: OOC: Checks
    Show
    SKILL CHECKS
    Wrestling 1 | (1d20+2)[11] Wrestling 2 | (1d20+2)[4] Wrestling 3 | (1d20+2)[7]
    Wrestling 4 | (1d20+2)[10] Wrestling 5 | (1d20+2)[19]
    DETAILS
    ⯌ Follow Up (Ex): An investigator can roll twice on any
    Diplomacy check made to gather information, and receives
    the information for both results. This takes the same amount
    of time as one check. If the lesser of the two checks reveals
    false information, the rogue is aware of it. False information
    is not revealed in this way if the people she questioned do
    not know it to be false. This ability replaces trapfinding.





    Spoiler: Character Details
    Show
    Tahjii Running Wind
    Sheet

    Shoanti (Human) - Tamiir-Quah | Divine Marksman Ranger/Investigator UC Rogue
    Player: Mornings

    DEFENSE
    ⛨ HP 17/17
    ⛨ AC 20, Touch 13, Flat-footed 17, CMD 16
    Fort 3, Ref 6, Will -2
    Speed 20 | Init 3

    OFFENCE
    CMB +3, Base Attack Bonus +1

    MELEE
    Kuachet, Piercing Earth (Irespan Basalt Lance) +4 (1d8+2, x3)

    RANGED
    ⯎ x3 Crystal Branch (Glass Shortspear) +3 (1d6+2, x2)
    ⯎ x8 Glass Chakram +4 (1d8+2, x2)

    STATISTICS
    Abilities Str 14, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 7, Cha 14
    Condition None


  17. - Top - End - #17
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Jhereg, Knight Aspirant of Iomedae
    HP's: 23 of 23 | AC: 19 | Flatfooted: 18 | Touch: 11 | CMD: 16 | FCMD: 15
    Passive Perception: 15 | Passive Sense Motive: 10
    Conditions: None.


    A look of shock crossed Jhereg's face as the large man attempted to over-power him, then had the audacity to challenge him to some sort of petty school yard game?!? The youth was well, and truly, insulted. "SIR!" He barked at the large man before him, "You speak to an aspirant to the Knights of Ozem, and a victory, here, in the mud. Avails us nothing! I am a warrior trained, you, despite your prodigious strength, are injured, there is no honor to this, no point. No reason. If you do not wish transport to Falcon's Hollow, or to have your wounds tended then we ...," and mid-sentence he stopped as Tahjii tackled the youth and began to wrestle him to the ground.

    "May the Inheritor preserve us," he muttered under his breath as he stepped between his companion and the youth rolling in the dust, his hand on the hilt of his blade, making it clear to the bull of a man he was not to intervene.

  18. - Top - End - #18
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Aria Lufo, Inspiring Commander

    Idiots! Aria had allowed her new surroundings and new people to distracter her. Now the people that should be guarding and unloaded were rolling around in the mud. She stomped over, the polearm drawn and held out in front of her, poking the gathering mob to part. She needed to get these provisions off the wagons and get back on the trail. Now!

    "HEY! You aren't getting paid to have a roll in the damned mud! Get your asses back to work unloading those supplies! The LOT of YOU!" She swung the weapon around toward the men forming the ring, menacingly.

    She motioned to Jherag and Tahjiii with her hand. "I want a sweep of the perimeter before we set off. No point in dropping supplies if the place has already be scouted to be raided..."

    "And you two..." She leveled the point of her polearm at the larger Johnsen. "You want to get back to the Hollow? You best start walking, because you won't be heading out with us."




    Spoiler: OOC: Checks
    Show

    ✥ Intimidate (1d10+5)[7]


    Spoiler: Character Details
    Show
    Aria Lufo
    Sheet

    Human | Cavalier (Inspiring Commander)
    Player: Deadguy

    DEFENSE
    ⛨ HP 16/16
    ⛨ AC 18, Touch 12, Flat-footed 16, CMD 16
    Fort 3, Ref 2, Will 0
    Speed 30 | Init 5

    OFFENCE
    CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus +1

    MELEE
    Guisarme +5 (2d4+3, x3)

    RANGED
    Light Crossbow +4 (1d8, 19-20 / x2)

    STATISTICS
    Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 10
    Condition None
    Last edited by Deadguy; 2020-06-29 at 08:32 AM.

  19. - Top - End - #19
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    "Are you alright? You didnt hurt yourself, did you?" Terran asks with concern when the halfling girl fails to lift up the box. "Dont worry about it! Strenght isnt everything though I am glad to meet someone with as much energy as you. I am certain that you must be quite capable in many other areas."

    "So, tell me, Missy. Why do you look so down? Is there anything on your mind? I can at the very least want to hear what you have to say. It really eases up the work to talk while working. Makes time go faster." Terran adds in hopes of lending an ear.
    Thanks to linklele for the amazing avvy.

    Quote Originally Posted by jidasfire View Post
    On a long enough scale, every OOTS forum discussion turns into a debate about alignment, Miko, or Familicide.
    It can also turn into a Star wars debate.

  20. - Top - End - #20
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Max is a decent enemy for this. At first, he manages to pin you down by your chest but you kick his leg away, dropping him down. He uses the momentum to roll you no your back, pinning your shoulders to the ground. A grimace of pain appears on his face as his arm lets out, allowing you to rise again. Max knows how to deal with his pain, throwing you in the dirt. He refuses to pin you down as a red mark grows on his biceps. He sits down on the ground. I give, I give. clutching his left upper arm with his right, sharply inhaling.

    Yer a stuck up lad. It was for fun. Like beer. Or women. Johnsen scoffs, not interested in fighting anymore. Now look at it, Max. Another day no pay for you because you screwed up your arm again. You had won, you should've just went through with it.

    As Aria yells at the group, she is just met with a few tired and annoyed faces. The crowd disperses after the spectacle has ended. The reminder of their employer was enough to get them back onto their posts, but you are sure you were not the reason for it, but rather the threat of informing Oriton to dock their pay for the day.

    The girl looks at Terran impressed. Well, my dad is sad because we had to move so quickly. My sister is helping him any way he can, but he always thinks of mother. You see, my mother...she didn't... Tears well up in her eyes as she starts to scream. Her father approaches, a rather emaciated exemplar of a halfling, hugging her and drying her tears. He sees your asking faces and adds. Emily's mother did not make it. We are, we were Chelish slaves. He hoists his daughter up, you can see him struggling to do so, but he manages regardless. Susie has found a squirrel, do you want to see a squirrel? Emily nods while rubbing the tears out of her eyes.



    Another half an hour, the caravan is moving again. It is late summer and a sunny day, but the shadow of the volcano, Droskar's Crag, throws its shadow onto the caravan. The path becomes almost dark as the volcano pushes out another clove of smoke. You are behind schedule, but you should arrive before night falls.

    You all notice faint yipping in the forests to the north and south, everyone looks around themselves, but Jhereg is the only one that looks up. A wolf sized winged reptile dives down onto your caravan. Left and right, you find an ambush of kobolds uphill. You see a dozen white kobolds in total, their shamans gesturing in the air. Suddenly roots burst from the ground, grappling down on wagon wheels, horses and everyone on the ground.

    Spoiler
    Show



    Jhereg can act in the surprise round, then the kobolds and the drake will act before the actual combat starts.
    Meanwhile you can do a reflex save either for yourself or your mount.


    Up next: Jhereg, and everyone's reflex save.
    Last edited by Spore; 2020-06-30 at 06:55 AM.
    Until further notice 21st of October, please DM me for important stuff, and let the game master control my characters

  21. - Top - End - #21
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]


    He'd never worked with so many people so adverse to a little tussle in the dirt. Though he could understand given the thick slushy clay of the thaw mingling with the heavy foot-traffic of the working men. It was just as well though, far be it from him to not sell the local 'wild man' facade. He'd nearly slipped and pinned himself two times just trying to find a foothold in the sludge. It most certainly hadn't been an opportune match, or pretty to look at, but at least he hadn't embarrassed himself. Not missing the opportunity to truly capture the nature of his fabricated persona, he silently grinned while wiping away the mud on his face with his sleeve, mounting his large horse.
    Back on the road, Tahjii bit down on a half burned out cigar of freshly rolled tobacco, trying to scrub out the mud from the earlier match. Dousing his clothes lightly with water he tried to wash away the larger blots of dirt he hadn't been able to get out earlier, it had been a frustrating affair. Every time he scrubbed out one spot, some of the washed out silt seemed to dirty the areas previously cleaned. His attention was more focused towards his own attire than the road ahead. Sudden shrieks surprised him, shocking his focus back to the world. His surprise nearly sent him for a tumble as a strange creature dove through the convoy of wagons.

    Spoiler: OOC: Checks
    Show
    SAVES
    Tahjii - Reflex Save | (1d20+6)[19] Kumiir - Reflex Save | (1d20+7)[25]
    DETAILS
    ⯌ Follow Up (Ex): An investigator can roll twice on any
    Diplomacy check made to gather information, and receives
    the information for both results. This takes the same amount
    of time as one check. If the lesser of the two checks reveals
    false information, the rogue is aware of it. False information
    is not revealed in this way if the people she questioned do
    not know it to be false. This ability replaces trapfinding.





    Spoiler: Character Details
    Show
    Tahjii Running Wind
    Sheet

    Shoanti (Human) - Tamiir-Quah | Divine Marksman Ranger/Investigator UC Rogue
    Player: Mornings

    DEFENSE
    ⛨ HP 17/17
    ⛨ AC 20, Touch 13, Flat-footed 17, CMD 16
    Fort 3, Ref 6, Will -2
    Speed 20 | Init 3

    OFFENCE
    CMB +3, Base Attack Bonus +1

    MELEE
    Kuachet, Piercing Earth (Irespan Basalt Lance) +4 (1d8+2, x3)

    RANGED
    ⯎ x3 Crystal Branch (Glass Shortspear) +3 (1d6+2, x2)
    ⯎ x8 Glass Chakram +4 (1d8+2, x2)

    STATISTICS
    Abilities Str 14, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 7, Cha 14
    Condition None

    Last edited by Mornings; 2020-06-30 at 09:44 PM.

  22. - Top - End - #22
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    The kobolds look overhead and see their pet, a mule-sized drake fly overhead. As it is in front of Aria's wagon, it exhales its devastating icy breath. After this, the kobolds on the left flank cheer. They are pressed into attack by their shaman, hitting only Oritil and his flanking guard, Johnsen, grazing them. The right side also manages to loose their sling bullets, but the majority of those hit. Jhereg is hit for 2 damage, while the guard next to them is hit on the back of their head.

    Seemingly a distraction for the flying dragon though. Its icy breath crystallizes the moisture in the air as it inhales. Max hides behind the caravan as his ally next to Jhereg is not so lucky. He is encased in a thin sheet of ice, frozen to the ground still grappled by the vines. By divine providence, Jhereg somehow manages to escape the majority of the ice breath, taking 6 cold damage. Aria is equally not lucky and his full front with the blast, for 13 cold damage.

    The few passengers in the wagons, mostly the cart in the middle, are screaming. You can see the halfling peeking out to look for an alleyway to flee. He sees none and instead covers his daughters, muffling their screams as best as he can.

    Spoiler
    Show


    Jhereg takes 2 damage (before DR) and 6 cold damage. The kobolds mostly miss or plink hopelessly against your superior armor.



    Blue dot means entangled. DC to break free via Strength or Escape Artist is 12.

    The drake is moving towards northwest and is about 10 ft in the air. Still, flying rules apply to him, so if you want to get creative, you can do so now.

    Spoiler: Knowledge Arcane DC 13
    Show
    While this appears to be a white dragon whelp, its breath weapon is decidedly too weak. It should have devastated the first wagon in a mere breath. Though, dragons, even fake ones, are rather clumsy fliers, so if you where to interrupt to slow its movement, it would be forced to land.


    Everyone, I'll weave in npc aid where appropriate.
    Last edited by Spore; 2020-07-01 at 04:57 AM.
    Until further notice 21st of October, please DM me for important stuff, and let the game master control my characters

  23. - Top - End - #23
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Jhereg, Knight Aspirant of Iomedae
    HP's: 16 of 23 | AC: 19 | Flatfooted: 18 | Touch: 11 | CMD: 16 | FCMD: 15
    Passive Perception: 15 | Passive Sense Motive: 10
    Conditions: Entangled; -2 Attack, -4 Dex.


    Jhereg still rankled after Lufo's needless rebuke, he had been attempting to render aid to the injured men, not draw them into some childish test of strength, he, more than most, knew the dangers that their trip entailed and he did not take his duty lightly. Who was she, to command him to do anything?! He took a deep breath, he closed his eyes a moment as Vaerhys plodded along behind the lead wagon. As he exhaled, he contemplated his actions, and measured those against the Acts of Iomedae, he had acted justly, nor allowed his pride to pull him into a challenge unworthy of his station. Corporal Lufo's harsh words grated on him because she had failed to note his own resolve and instead assumed he had risen to the forester's challenge. Pride. He exhaled, releasing the tension in his chest, rolled his shoulders. His companion, though mistaken, had acted in a manner to preserve the safety and integrity of the caravan, so her intentions were just.

    A smirk came to his face, though the Shoanti had clearly won, and that did bring the young man some joy. He looked to the sky to thank the Inheritor for small blessings ... a shadow crossed his face, moving far to quickly to be a cloud. His eyes snapped open, and he saw a ... drake?!?

    It was then that chaos descended on them, a well executed ambush, two groups, both sides of the road and they had the advantage of a winged companion, able to soar and sweep above their intended prey. Vaerhys bucked beneath him, though he managed to calm the mount, however, as the creatures attacked, the weeds and overgrowth beside the road erupted into an explosion of vines, roots and sinuous grass that grasped at the wagon's wheels and their mounts hooves. Jhereg attempted to dismount quickly, though his foot snagged in his stirrup, unnerved by the soaring creature above him, as he landed on his feet he found himself entwined.

    He raised his shield, rocks pelting with surprising force from it's steel embossed surface, and then suddenly he was rimed in ice, thicker than the coldest winter he had experienced. Blowing the ice from his mouth, he pushed his pain to the side, and concentrated on the task ahead of him, lives were at risk, and, Inheritor willing, he would be able to drive the attackers from their path without losing another companion this day. With a free hand he grabbed his crossbow from the rear of his saddle, turned and plunged through the undergrowth towards the large creature, intending to knock it from the sky with the heavy weapon.

    Spoiler: OOC Actions
    Show
    Since it is a move action to 'free' yourself from the Entangle, but if you end in it's area you need to save at the start of your next turn, I will instead, accept the Entangled Condition. I will use a standard action to draw my crossbow from my mount, and a move action to move 15' SE, which should end with my directly east of the rock pile.

  24. - Top - End - #24
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Aria Lufo, Inspiring Commander

    Aria cursed under her breath as she heard the yips from the sides. She glanced both ways, attempting formulate a quick plan. The sudden sheer cold sucked the air from her lungs. It burned. She felt her joints stiffen and body on the verge of collapse. Press on! There was a brutal internal voice that rattled her back to her senses. It might have been mistaken for a flash-back from a drill instructor, or company commander bellowing orders to keep moving. She knew better.

    "If you can move, scatter and close to melee. Focus shots on that caster if you can't!" She drew the polearm and moved through the tangling roots, able to avoid their grasp.

    There was a desire to stab at the winged beast overhead, but she knew the dangers of allowing threats at the flanks. She had to break the south side.




    Spoiler: OOC: Actions
    Show

    ✥ Inspire Courage (+1 attack / damage) [standard]
    ✥ Draw weapon [free], Move south 20 ft [move]


    Spoiler: Character Details
    Show
    Aria Lufo
    Sheet

    Human | Cavalier (Inspiring Commander)
    Player: Deadguy

    DEFENSE
    ⛨ HP 3/16
    ⛨ AC 18, Touch 12, Flat-footed 16, CMD 16
    Fort 3, Ref 2, Will 0
    Speed 30 | Init 5

    OFFENCE
    CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus +1

    MELEE
    Guisarme +5 (2d4+3, x3)

    RANGED
    Light Crossbow +4 (1d8, 19-20 / x2)

    STATISTICS
    Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 10
    Condition Inspire Courage (+1 attack / damage) [8/9 rds]

  25. - Top - End - #25
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Cursing his decision not to increase his strength earlier, Aethon grabs a vial from his side, and prepares to drink it. Then he hesitates, looks more closely at the vial, and instead pours the vial's contents over the bolt in his crossbow, which starts to smoke. He then grabs a second vial and swallows that instead. There's no perceptible change but he's suddenly able to move much more freely in his heavy armour. Aethon aims his crossbow at the nearest kobold. "Right, let's have some fun!"

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Drinking an extract of Ant Haul. It lasts for four hours, so I should probably have done it sooner really...lesson learnt. Also applying a vial of acid to my crossbow bolt.

  26. - Top - End - #26
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    As the travel continues, Terran is distracted thinking about the little halfling girl and he is caught by surprise when everything falls into chaos. It takes a moment for Terran to process the attack. "Everyone, be on guard." Terran rapidly grabs his shield to at least give himself more protection against the assailants. He had to be quick while considering his options. "Are you ready?" He looks at Aethon, being the only familiar face he could see.

    Terran looks a the creature in the sky. There was something strange about its attack though he decided to share what he knew with the rest about how to handle the dangerous creature. He first speaks with Aethon. "Can you concentrate your fire on the dragon? Its pretty likely that if interrupt him, he will be forced to land. A dragon this young should be a pretty bad flier. I reccomend using fire against it. Oh! Allow me assist you on your attack." Terran starts a small chant.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show

    Drawing my shield as a move action.
    Using my standard action to cast bless.

    +1 on attack rolls and saves against fear for all allies within 50 ft.

    Spoiler: Stats
    Show

    Terran Silversword Human Oracle (Spirit Guide) 2 NG HP 15 / 15 Speed 30 ft Init 1
    AC 19* (shield*) Fort 1 Ref 1 Will 3 CMB +3 BAB 1
    Str 14 (2) Dex 12 (1) Con 13 (1) Wis 10 (0) Int 10 (0) Cha 16 (3)

    Last edited by DaOldeWolf; 2020-07-01 at 07:20 PM.
    Thanks to linklele for the amazing avvy.

    Quote Originally Posted by jidasfire View Post
    On a long enough scale, every OOTS forum discussion turns into a debate about alignment, Miko, or Familicide.
    It can also turn into a Star wars debate.

  27. - Top - End - #27
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]


    The buck of Kumiir shook away his sense of shellshock. Battle. Seemingly without warning the casual venture had devolved into a skirmish. Grabbing the thick leather reins, his first instinct compelled him to flee. He wheeled about to face the enemy behind. The sight of the frosty burst of supercold rime sent chills down his spine. Never in all his years had he exchanged blows with any manner of wyrm, and he didn't plan for that to change today. The gibbering shaman on the hill was a more manageable threat. He'd leave the flying beast to his friends. Gathering his courage he snapped out a circular blade from the folds of his armored vestments, letting the wheel rapidly set to spin around his extended middle finger, *("Ride with me my friend, like once before!") With a snap of the reins he pressed his advance towards the mob, eyes fixed on his target before letting the blade free through the air, intent to strike the strange beast down.
    *(Indicates Shoanti Speech)

    Spoiler: OOC: Checks
    Show
    COMBAT ACTIONS
    Tahjii - Move Action | Draw Weapon (Glass Chakram)
    Kumiir - Move Action | Move 40ft (ish?) | Acrobatics (if required) (1d20+2)[6] | Horsebatics? (1d20+2)[17]
    (The double grid is a bit unclear. Attempting to move within 30ft of Kobold Shaman through difficult terrain)
    Spoiler: Rough Position-ish
    Show
    Tahjii - Attack Action (Vs Shaman) | Glass Chakram: (1d20+5)[16] | Damage: (1d8+7)[9]
    (PBS: +1/+1, Deadly Aim: -1/+2, Sharpened: +1 first hit, Inspire Courage +1/+1)
    (Note: If the movement fails, subtract 3 from the attack roll result & 1 from dmg result as appropriate for
    no PBS and attacking beyond the first range increment @60ft. If Inspire doesn't count, then adjust result as needed.)
    DETAILS
    Spoiler: KUMIIR, STORMING FREE STATUS
    Show

    KUMIIR, STORMING FREE
    Advanced War Horse, Combat Trained (CR 2)

    N Large animal
    Init +4; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +8

    DEFENSE

    AC 19, touch 13, flat-footed 11 (+2 Dex, +2 natural, –1 size, +4 armor)
    Hp 19 (2d8+10)
    Fort +8, Ref +7, Will +3

    OFFENSE

    Speed 50 ft.
    Melee 2 hooves +5 (1d4+5)
    Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft.

    STATISTICS

    Str 20, Dex 18, Con 21, Int 2, Wis 17, Cha 11
    Base Atk +1; CMB +7; CMD 21 (25 vs. trip)
    Feats Endurance, RunB
    Skills Perception +8


    Spoiler: Character Details
    Show
    Tahjii Running Wind
    Sheet

    Shoanti (Human) - Tamiir-Quah | Divine Marksman Ranger/Investigator UC Rogue
    Player: Mornings

    DEFENSE
    ⛨ HP 17/17
    ⛨ AC 20, Touch 13, Flat-footed 17, CMD 16
    Fort 3, Ref 6, Will -2
    Speed 20 | Init 3

    OFFENCE
    CMB +3, Base Attack Bonus +1

    MELEE
    Kuachet, Piercing Earth (Irespan Basalt Lance) +4 (1d8+2, x3)

    RANGED
    ⯎ x3 Crystal Branch (Glass Shortspear) +3 (1d6+2, x2)
    ⯎ x8 Glass Chakram +4 (1d8+2, x2)

    STATISTICS
    Abilities Str 14, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 12, Wis 7, Cha 14
    Condition None

    Last edited by Mornings; 2020-07-01 at 09:36 PM.

  28. - Top - End - #28
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Aria hoists her freezing body up with her weapon, commandeering the others and charging the kobolds, uphill and injured. A kobold trioes to interrupt your movement, but you cut him down in an effortless sweep. The men of the caravan are impressed and follow your commands, flanking both sides of the hills. The incline however holds their advance for at least a little while, allowing the reptilian ambushers another volley. Threatened, the shaman shrieks.

    Spoiler: Draconic
    Show
    Kill this one! For the glory of Merlokrep!


    The shaman is fearing Aria's steady advance and conjures up an icicle above its head, hitting Aria through her shoulder, downing her. A brave guard jumps in front of her, shielding her of any further attacks for now. As a response, Tahjii's chakram slashes the shaman's side, that barely keeps standing. In a response the left flank fires at Tahjii, both attacks miss. The north flank fires too, but their result is equally as disheartening as the kobold's attack. A four arrows fly, and a single one grazes the kobolds. The kobolds respond in kind, being only barely more effective.

    Their ability to hold a formation seems better than the south's group. As the shaman calls upon nature's might to conceal them, a heavy fog rises above him, covering the northern flank in mist.

    The drake lands in front of Jhereg, trying to bring the large warrior down. The dragon bites him but due to the adrenaline surge, he barely feels anything.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Aria is crit for 8 damage, bringing her to -5. You can control the guard in front of you if you wish. His stats are Str 12, Dex 12, AC 13 (+1 dex, +2 armor, +1 ), HP 12, he has a handaxe and a sling. Jhereg is hit for 2 damage (before DR).

    Until further notice 21st of October, please DM me for important stuff, and let the game master control my characters

  29. - Top - End - #29
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Jhereg, Knight Aspirant of Iomedae
    HP's: 15(19) of 23(27) | AC: 19(17) | Flatfooted: 18(16) | Touch: 11(9) | CMD: 16(14) | FCMD: 15(13)
    Passive Perception: 15 | Passive Sense Motive: 10
    Conditions: IBless (+1 hit & save); Rage (+4 Str; +4 Con; +2 Will save; -2 AC)


    Jhereg's vision was focused on the hovering drake as the sounds of combat exploded around him, it was a dull roar as his heart pounded in his chest, the blood pushed through his veins, his temples throbbed. He tried to keep it in check, to focus on the larger threat, he felt if they could fell the drake it would shatter the savages morale and they could be routed by the caravan's guards. His vision cleared, time slowed to a crawl as he heard the thunder of the Shoanti's horse's hooves in the sod, suddenly, it snapped to clarity as Corporal Lufo was struck down by the shaman's icy magicks, a guardsmen bravely hoisting his shield to protect her fallen body, and that is when it happened.

    His crossbow fell numbly from his fingers, a bright white began to suffuse his vision, a blinding light seemed to come from the sky, it encompassed him, bathed him in it's faith, in it's power. As if in a trance, he began a low, rhythmic chant, "learn the weight of the sword," he drew his long, broad blade, "without, heart, to guide it, worthless," he raised it high, and it caught the noonday sun, "strength is not, sword, but, heart," his eyes snapped to the drake as it landed, it's vicious bite slashing through his defense. He ignored the pain, "FROM MY HEART I STRIKE AT THEE!"

    Spoiler: Out of Character Actions
    Show
    OOC: Free action to drop my crossbow, move action to draw my Bastard Sword one handed, free action to enter Rage, and Standard Action to Power Attack the drake. Rolling attack at +8 (2 BAB, 5 STR, 1 MW, 1 Bless, -1 PA), a [url=https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=24592337&postcount=7]9[/roll], if successful 1d10+7 (5 STR, 2 PA), (1d10+7)[11].

    A freaking 1, I haven't rolled higher than a 5 this whole game, screw you Dice, screw you!
    Last edited by Zero Prime; 2020-07-02 at 06:45 AM.

  30. - Top - End - #30
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    Default Re: Forest of the Darkmoon Vale [IC]

    Aria Lufo, Inspiring Commander

    Aria felt a surge of confidence as she cut down the emboldened kobold. She heard the men behind her rush to follow her lead. We can do this!

    Her plan seemed to be coming together until... the hill. It had slowed her more than she expected. The shaman was just out of range as he began to chant again. Too slow! Her eyes widened slightly as the ice shard formed over her target's head. There was nothing to be done. The cold magic slammed into her, shocking her system. Her vision formed a tunnel and she felt herself falling, but never felt the ground meet her body.

    The brave guard that had followed her up the hill stepped forward to engage the shaman. Whether it was in defense of his fallen comrade or simply to save himself from a similar fate, he slashed at the kobold with his axe.




    Spoiler: OOC: Actions
    Show

    ✥ Stabilize (1d20-5)[10]
    ✥ Guard 5 foot step south [free]
    ✥ Guard attack vs shaman (1d20+3)[20] [standard]
    Damage (1d6+1)[3]


    Spoiler: Character Details
    Show
    Aria Lufo
    Sheet

    Human | Cavalier (Inspiring Commander)
    Player: Deadguy

    DEFENSE
    ⛨ HP -5/16
    ⛨ AC 18, Touch 12, Flat-footed 16, CMD 16
    Fort 3, Ref 2, Will 0
    Speed 30 | Init 5

    OFFENCE
    CMB +4, Base Attack Bonus +1

    MELEE
    Guisarme +5 (2d4+3, x3)

    RANGED
    Light Crossbow +4 (1d8, 19-20 / x2)

    STATISTICS
    Abilities Str 14, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 10
    Condition Stabilized (-5)
    Last edited by Deadguy; 2020-07-02 at 10:39 AM.

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