A Monster for Every Season: Summer 2
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  1. - Top - End - #31
    Barbarian in the Playground

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    Jun 2017

    Default Re: [DnD 5e] Playthings in an Interplanar Dollhouse- A Path of the Planebreaker Adven

    Maker Kunnian
    AC: 15 | HP: 38/38 | HIT DICE: 5d8+10
    Speed: 25ft | Initiative: +2
    Passive Perception: 11 | Passive Insight: 11
    Conditions: ---

    ''Hmm.'' Kunnian thinks in reply to Bil's question. ''I guess that depends of your abilities. The coins aren't magic - my spells are what allows me to track them. So if you have similar magic, it could be possible.''

    Spoiler: OoC

    she is talking about the spell 'locate object'

    Last edited by NiKkatsu; 2023-01-31 at 11:10 AM.

  2. - Top - End - #32
    Ogre in the Playground
    purepolarpanzer's Avatar

    Join Date
    Jan 2006
    The Frozen Northlands

    Default Re: [DnD 5e] Playthings in an Interplanar Dollhouse- A Path of the Planebreaker Adven

    Star Elf Crystal Merchant

    The star elf turns from her crystals to lock eyes with Hylusi for a moment before declining her head. "My path may be long, but it is no less worthy than yours, Cousin. And I think, based on appearances, that your own path may be closer to my own than most of The Family. I pray they are kinder to you. Skies gaze upon you kindly, as well." She then turns back to her display of crystals, tapping a magenta crystal with a silver rod, rapidly followed by a sapphire and an emerald. As the reverberation fills the air, the crystals reach for each other, entwine, and spiral. The dark eyed elf with the star eyes frowns, looking over the formation of the crystals with concern, before looking up at the bright blue sky with furrowed brows.

    "The crystals are my livelihood. I must charge you for them, though your patrons are important. Thirty three gold for each color. One color is for vanity. Two are for curiosity. Three answer questions. A gold for your own silver rod. Any metal may do, but the silver rings the truest answers. Plus it sounds nice." She smiled and tapped the three crystals again, nervously looked up at the sky again, then turns to Hylusi. "I'm afraid my time at these festivities draws short. I do not mean to be rude, especially to one of your station or your patron's station, but I must go. Do you wish to buy a crystal trigram?"

    The Monster Hunter

    The scarred, scimitar wielding woman smiles wide, first taking Prince Doredan's hand, then quickly shifting her grip up to his arm in a grip speaking more of comradery than suspicion. "I have heard tales of the poison prince. Didn't ever think I'd meet him. Or that he'd have such a fetching smile." She winks and gives a small laugh before turning to move a box with some sort of ornery, hissing creature in it. "If we'd met a hundred miles to the east in Everarbor I would happily trade you venoms that would test your resistance, to be sure. But, knowing that I was coming to a kingdom where such wares are... less than welcome, I moved all my stock amongst the elves. They are a cunning people. Peace or no peace, they buy enough poisons that I think the only blades that go untreated are their butter knives. Your brother best be careful with his wedding." She uttered and angry word in a foreign language and shook the box, causing a louder hiss and a series of small, snapping crab-like claws to shoot between the bars.

    When Doredan brings up taming wyverns, she grins and leans on her cart, the large, crystalized eye turning to look down at her. "You're talking to the wrong sister. I'm a warrior of nature, focused on doing battle with beasts and monsters and protecting my hunting grounds. My sister took vows with a druid circle, and she has allies that would send this crowd running for their homes. She hates places like this, so I travel and do the trade to earn us coin for her reagents and ingredients. Two years ago I returned to our home to find her missing. Spent days tracking her, only to have a wyvern the size of a rhino... do you ken rhinoceros? anyway, mini wyvern scoops me up in it's claws and carries me all the way home. I spend the whole trip praying and struggling and, quite honestly, sobbing like a child. Wyvern drops me about ten feet to the ground, and my loon of a sister is riding on top of it and laughing at me like I peed my pants. Crazy *****." She leans heavily on a cage, then is woken from her daydream by the cage growling and shaking. Releasing a small chuckle, she looks quickly to either side and deftly slides a vial out of her bracer, tossing it one handed to the Prince. "From my private stock. Made my sister let me milk the tail of the beast after it dropped me. If it kills you, you didn't get it from me. Not as strong as it's bigger family, but still should be enough to put a foe in the ground. Or put some hair on that chest of yours." Someone inquires about a beast that looks like a stuffed scaled feline, and her attention is drawn to other business.

    Spoiler: OOC
    One dose of miniature wyvern poison. Nature DC 14 to learn it's exact stats.

    Spoiler: DC 14
    Often mistaken for young wyverns, miniature wyverns live in areas that would be awkward for their larger cousins, such as sea cliffs or canyon walls. Their venom deals 4d6 poison damage, or half with a successful DC 13 Constitution saving throw.

    The Lizardfolk Mask Merchant

    The reptilian artisan blinks passively at Doredan's curiosity. "Masssssk meant for you, ssssssirrrr. Sssssooooullll ssssisssster callllsssss to you. Fifty gold pieeecccessss for the curio. The realm of eyesssss will open youuurrsss upon a new world!" If asked for another mask, the lizardfolk refuses, adamantly insisting that the three moon mask is perfect for Doredan, whispering "ssssoooooullll sssssiiisssster...."

    The Goliath's Memory Stones

    The coins are exchanged- the memory stones are quite pricey at 75 gold pieces. But if the magic that you've seen so far is any indication of what the full experience is like, it is well worth the cost. "My thanks, stoneling. Shaper Glomluch has returned below the earth to the Waking world, but I will send Maker Kunnian's regards. We are people of mist, smoke, and dream to the Great Shapers, but as the memory indicates, even beings as temporary as us can be a color in a palette that creates works of art that will live far beyond our lifetimes." The massive goliath reaches down and scruffs Kunnian's hair a bit. "You, friend, are a very bright and memorable color."

    The Grass Shaman's Cart

    When Felicity and Bil approach the centaur woman with the mottled grey hair, she welcomes Felicity with a warm smile and an affectionate clasping of hands, as is common for their people. At the mention of songblossom, the shaman turns to her cart and searches underneath several bundles of grass to extract an elegant white flower with a violet ring around the edges of it's petals. "Blossomed under the song of a wedding of our people. My last one. But I am honored to pass it on to the wedding of these two nations, that it may remind the two legs that peace and harmony depends on their bliss."

    While moving through the market with Bil, Felicity and her Harengon ally find several people who have seen hints of the missing High Priest over the last day or so. "Oh, you mean the bulky bearded elf with a spilling cup on his robe? I saw him blessing drunks in a tavern on the other side of the market!" Says a woman selling dress clothes for the festivities. On the way to investigate, Bil passes by a armorer who has a a sturdy looking breastplate with the accompanying chain that sheens in the afternoon sun, on sale for an actual discount, as opposed to the local blacksmith. He is offering the armor for 375 gold pieces, extolling it's virtues to all who pass by.

    Arriving at a winesink of a tavern called the Mountain's Grapes, it doesn't take long to locate the half-elf High Priest of Damh. If elves are known for the gracefulness and lithe bodies, Meriand Voskolm must favor his human side. He has the pointed ears of Everarbor, but the bear like man with a barrel chest and a flowing beard definitely favors his human parentage. And, unfortunately, he appears to be well into his cups, leaning heavily on the bar of the small hole in the wall tavern and mumbling blearily. The woman tending bar sees your interest in the man and shouts out to you. "At first I was happy to have a priest of the Mirthful One here. People drink more when it's a sacrament. But he's long overstayed his welcome, and well over-celebrated the wedding. He owes thirty silver in wine. Kept paying to fill everyone's cups in the common floor. I don't mean to muscle a man of the cloth, but I'd be paid before you drag him away, if you please."

    The esteemed High Priest of Damh sits up, burps loudly, and sings a lopsided few bars of a wedding march before falling back on the bar heavily.

    A Few Moments Later

    By one way or another, the Prince, the Magus, the Maker, the Cleric, and the Courser all find themselves moving through the central market. Some have had a merry time shopping, some have found rare or exotic goods with magical qualities from distant lands, and some are supporting a wide bodied High Priest singing drunkenly between themselves, but all have navigated the waves and tides of shoppers, hawkers, merchants, street chefs and festive celebrators for several hours. Whether you have enjoyed the crowded market or not, the merriment is contagious, and even the most cynical feel a tugging at the corners of their mouths. Every soul in Wissimvale is prepared for the great wedding between royal families, a new age of peace and prosperity, and at the very least, a raucous party that will be memorable even across the long life of an elf. The time for the rehearsal is coming up soon, however, and for those with official duties such as yourselves it is becoming time to leave the market and return to the castle.

    The first sign of something wrong is the sky turning a deep, blood red, as though a massive lens had been erected between the noon sun and the ground. Most people notice slowly, with merriment turning into confusion. Then comes a massive, terrible sound like icebergs cracking against each other up in the sky, as though the foundations of the clouds was crumbling under the weight of some inexorable pressure. Those who look up see a distinct and disturbing bulge form in the sky overhead, which grows and stretches and rips open the very sky. Bright and terrible flashing lights emerge from the hole in the sky, causing the eyes of the onlookers to grow wide and dilated with otherworldly terror. Then it emerges, with a sublime sound of air being moved around it that reminds all who watch it of the worst storm they have ever witnessed. A red moon, moving across the sky, blocking the sun in an eclipse of terror. Those with sharp eyes can see veins of eldritch energy on the massive offensive body, roiling red liquid in a massive ocean on it's surface, and a wake of shrapnel, wreckage, scrap, and fragments break off it like a large dog shedding snow.

    It starts to rain as clouds rumble into existence around the foreign object, with lightning crackling through the clear sky, torrential black clouds appearing from nowhere, and thunder rippling through reality. It starts to rain, but it is not water that comes down.

    A baby cries. People take a deep breath. Someone screams. Then everyone screams. Madness begins to take control of the crowd. Then a chunk of stone the size of a wagon pulps a stall selling meat on a stick. Awe turns to panic. The crowd becomes a sea of madness.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Strength save, dexterity save, wisdom save, please. Everyone can post a reaction, anyone trained in Arcana may roll, then I will roll for initiative, and the real fun will begin. The Planebreaker has arrived.
    Last edited by purepolarpanzer; Yesterday at 06:38 PM.
    The Bear is Back.

  3. - Top - End - #33
    Bugbear in the Playground
    Awful's Avatar

    Join Date
    Jan 2018
    Somewhere Strange

    Default Re: [DnD 5e] Playthings in an Interplanar Dollhouse- A Path of the Planebreaker Adven

    Hylusi Quaternaros, Magus of Bleakpines
    Magework Necromancer
    Darkvision: 60ft
    AC: 15 HP: 32/32
    PP: 14 PIv: 14 PIs: 11
    Concentrating on: detect magic
    5/5 d6 HD
    Arcane recovery 1/1
    Spell Slots- 3/4 1st, 3/3 2nd, 2/2 3rd
    Fingerbone staff 10/10

    Star Elf

    Hylusi considered the star elf's words for a moment.
    <All must strive,> she sent at last. <To regret my path and its necessity would be folly. I have achieved already what many will never, and the zenith of my power is yet still far distant until I reach it.>

    The gold surrendered by the stupid plate merchant came in use much sooner than the Magus expected. She inclined her head and clicked her fingers, and the gold-masked servitor offered forth the hundred gold for the three crystals and the rod. Let it not be said she offered an incomplete gift, after all.
    <I will take all three and the rod, then.>

    As the crystals were prepared, the Magus watched the star elf carefully.
    <Do you foretell ill, cousin?>

    Apocalypse Moon

    Heading back through the market, the Magus was deep in thought. It was only the change in light that made her pay attention to the sky, and she saw crimson spread like inkblots across it, and then-

    Then the sky was screaming. Bloody red, it ripped and tore, as a monstrous scarlet moon hurled across the sky. Raw magic played across its length, crackling like lightning, as the magic energy sloshed in an eldritch sea across the surface. The wounded sky wept from it.

    It was... fascinating. Power unmatched by nigh any mortal work she knew of.

    She wanted it.

    She wanted that might, to tear the sky if she willed.

    Notes, she had to take notes!

    Paying no attention to the bedlam around her, she retrieved parchment and began scribbling feverishly. She didn't even notice when the servitors stepped closer, silently blocking the madness of the crowd from jostling her.

    For a moment, she was again a young girl, alone in a dim stone chamber, surrounded by books and scrolls piled high, working on magical equations even as limbs spasmed and the bitter iron taste of blood filled her mouth, even as her own body betrayed her, determined to live, to overcome, to gain the power never, ever, to feel so desperate-

    And then she was again the Magus of Bleakpines as her spidery writing danced across the page.

    Spoiler: OOC

    str: 16, dex: 3, wis: nat 20 for 24, arcana: 15
    And the far stars cried, and the planets yearned;
    But no man may know, for she'll ne'er return.

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