TheRPGSite

You have arrived in the sleepy outpost town of Ardendale to the smoke of cooking fires, and as you get closer to the inn, the noise and bustle of commerce.  You quickly realize that this hasn't been an outpost for a number of years, but rather a stop-over for merchants travelling east.  The original palisades are being replaced with stone walls and ramparts, but a trained eye can see it is for prestige rather than protection.  Most of the surrounds have long been cleared of bandits and feral creatures, while the nearest hostile border is over a week's hard ride.  Farmers and their hands look up, but seem little surprised by armed travellers on the southern road, and return to their work paying you no more mind.

The Duke's Retreat Inn is easily found, being the most ornate as you approach from the south.  The other buildings are sturdy, but plain in decoration as is the wont in this region.  You have arrived a day or two before the meeting your contact referred to you, being held by a proxy of the Duke for which the inn is named, and is clearly his old hunting lodge.  What you know of the Duke is his fairness and justice, but his interest in his people overshadows relations with bordering nobles;  relations are typically strained, but never openly hostile.

Among those in the know, the Duke's general call for assistance points to a low point in those relations.  A tribe of gnolls appears to have allied themselves with an orc clan to co-ordinate raids across the Duke's southwestern border a week or more away.  The territory is unclaimed, but most reports indicate the non-human tribes were happy to war amongst themselves.  Some new agenda has motivated them and managed to overcome their natural hostilities.  The raids are disorganized and routed more often than not for the time being, but they are becoming more co-ordinated in their attacks.  Someone - or something - highly malevolent is behind this new threat, and the Duke is offering a handsome reward for those able to find out what.

You are the last remnants of your mercenary bands or adventuring costers.  They have disbanded for one reason or another; attrition, better opportunities, internal strife...  The causes were many, but the end result always the same.  The Duke's offer is a welcome break from caravan guard or courier duty.  And the pay promises to be much better as well.  Some of you have come for the money, some for the glory, some for altruistic reasons.  You are familiar with each other, at least by reputation.  Some of you have crossed swords, others have been rivals for the same treasure.  Despite your pasts, the camraderie of adventure and the promise of wealth and excitement has brought you together and repaired the schisms.  Well, mostly.  Time doesn't always heal all wounds.

It is midmorning, the Duke's proxy is expected tomorrow no later than dinner.  You have taken your various seats in the common room and prepare to tuck into breakfast.  The town appears well supplied; the smithy rings with hammerblows all day, the mercantile has a steady flow of customers, the stablemaster is discerning in his choice.  Midsummer is only a week behind you, and the day is bright and warm.

Adventure awaits you, do you heed the call?

Semina reflects on her thoughts as she finishes her morning meditation. She ties her long black hair in a knot and brushes off her cloak, after she used it for comfort.  Her mind is constantly straying towards the audacious Dwarven fighter named Snorri Steelskin.  Knowing nothing of her own background except for her deliverance to the monastery Siltar to the order of Iskgard,  at a very young age, she finds it odd that a Dwarf would find comfort fighting above the ground for this long.  

Semina has read enough to know that certain clans of dwarfs are greedy, mean natured, and will sell you out the moment payment was involved, but something about Snorri has her puzzled. People speak of Snorri, and how he stayed behind to filter out the citizens of Corade during a raid by goblins. They were attacking all along the outskirts of the unprotected city, and killing everyone in their rampaging path.  Not only did he and the other fighters cleanse the city of the goblin filth, but they took no payment for their good deeds.

 Snorri seems to be of noble nature, level headed and well a established fighter for his youthful age.  So why can't she figure out why he captures her attention?  Maybe it is because like her, he is a lone soul among strangers.  Could he be hiding from his clan for some unknown reason, or did he need to just come up for air?  Why does he continue to fight beside us, looking into death's eyes over and over, instead of heading underground again?  She notices his eyes glisten at the sight of profit, but when he fights there is the awe about him while he chops the enemy down.  

Semina yawns for a moment, and grabs a bowl of broth with a piece of bread to calm her stomach's griping.  She sits down by the fire pit to warm her up muscles, and starts in on her breakfast, just slightly catching a glimpse of Snorri.

Snorri was hungry, bloody hungry. The platter of stew he had wolfed down hadn't been enough to assuage his mighty appetite. At 5'2" he was big for a dwarf, and his large frame needed more sustenance than most. Only his stocky frame and luxurient beard gave away his heritage, otherwise he could be mistaken for a short human. He had decided at an early age that he was more comfortable in human lands than many of his kind - craning your neck upwards all the time gave many of his clan mates a reputation for being irritable, something he didn't have a problem with.

Raising his hand and bellowing for more food and ale, Snorri caught a glimpse of a coweled figure standing some way off. The alien curve of the semi-shrouded face tipped him off instantly. Orc! Reaching for his hammer, Snorri stands, but a better look at the face informs him that this is no ordinary Orc. He had seen this fellow before. Kagan-Zur, the hired killer. Snorri sits back down, deep in thought. Kagan was a strange fish, by all accounts, maybe accounted for by his parentage. Whilst in a wayside inn outside of town, Snorri had heard tell of Kagan breaching the curtain walls of Hellspire Keep - something no-one had done before. What his mission there was, who knows, but he came back again. To make him even more enigmatic, apparently he gave service to some God - odd practise for someone who takes money for killing.

Heathcliff sat on a wooden stool close to the inn's hearth at play with a corgi. He enjoyed for only a moment the childhood pleasures he abandoned for the guardianship of the untamed grasslands that surrounded his home. In the wilds, the wind blows, the sky rains, there is never enough food for five daily meals, and no hounds. Every animal for itself, so the saying goes. Yet, to the coddled Healthcliff, there was the promise of freedom as eventually his mentor and superiors would barely ever bother him, leaving nature to take its course and more importantly Heathcliff to his own devices. That indeed did occur and Heathcliff appreciated this as the virtual independance enabled him on nights where the lifestyle of his investiture grated on him to indulge in more civilized activities such as teasing hounds with food and warming oneself by a fire safe from the mercilessness of the wind.

His thoughts soon began to carry his eyes across the common room and Heathcliff stared intently at each and every patron's face reflecting on what he has heard about each guest in his travels. So deep are the druid's thoughts that the dog bites his hand and made off with the biscuit. Yet the light chomp proves jarring enough to the halfling's memory that Heathcliff finally recalls a description, almost forgotten after copious feasting and ribald storytelling, and matches it to a face. There he sits or stands. It's hard to tell with giants.

His name is Thaelie Starslinger, a half-elf and magic-user of some ill repute. It is said that many years ago in a duchy to the north (Heathcliff never traveled there, liking the warmer southern lands too much to leave for someplace colder), Thaelie Starslinger was an outsider (half-elves are always outsiders) trying to make way into high society. A chance encounter with the duke's daughter turned into an opportunity which the half-elf could not pass up. The affair was kept secret for many nights until surrounded by the dukes' elite guards, the magician made a timely horseback escape with both daughter and numerous precious heirlooms in tow as an explosion rocked the duke's manor and levelled half the buildling.

Finished with the recollection, Heathcliff thinks to himself, eyes rolling away from Thaelie, trouble is here once again, and sighs. Maybe a life of peaceful but miserable woodland living is better after all.

Starslinger didn't much care for ale, nor mead, nor any of the stronger brews offered in the tavern.  He was fond of dry snuff, however, and he carried a pouch of it most days.  Lately however, it seemed like it was getting dangerous to indulge in the habit.  Just last week, he had been in the middle of casting a relatively minor spell, when an unexpected sneeze resulted in his flaming sphere getting away from him momentarily, and crisping the mane of the nearby merchant's donkey.  

Slinger (as he was known by some), was not the most focused of magi, to be certain.  He sat at a corner table in the tavern, trying to study a tome on the art of making staffs.  He had barely touched his food, and was trying to stay unnoticed.  The "little incident" involving the Duke's daughter had caused him to mostly keep out of the spotlight.  He dressed in a plain set of clothes with little ornamentation.  His oversize bag contained the books and components of his craft, but to anyone looking at him, he was an ordinary commoner.  He tried to stay unrecognizable.  It was in his best interest.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar face.  It was Sander Lightwalker, a pious soul he had encountered soon after the "little incident."  Before the castle blew, the Duke's guards were able to fire off a few shots that had hit their mark.  Slinger had made it to the next village before passing out.  When he sought help at the local temple, it had been Lightwalker who offered help.  Knowing that his kind was not always accepted easily, Slinger was relieved to accept Lightwalkers offer of healing and a night's stay.  

In exchange for the assistance, Slinger translated some tomes that had been recovered by some of the temple's pilgrims and the two parted on friendly terms.  

When he looked up and saw Lightwalker looking in his direction, Slinger raised his hand in a slight wave.  He wasn't sure if Lightwalker had seen him, but since he had begun hiding out from the Duke, it was the first friendly face he had seen.  It would be nice to reconnect with someone who wasn't out to have him hung.

Naran had never quite been comfortable in a tavern. They were inconsistant. One moment, the patrons might be friendly; the next, they might be fighting. It was almost like the behavior of nobles.

Perhaps it was the alcohol.

(OOC: A little filler first)

Looking around the darkened, smoke-filled room (Hard to read in and smoke wasn't good for the lungs), he mentally analyzed the clientel. It was a pastime of his; other people had always been a puzzle. There was a strong-backed, weak-minded man at the bar, on his sixth or seventh glass. He probably thought of himself as the honest, straight-foward type, but it was clear some sort of desperation was setting in and people got irrational when they got desperate.

At one table, a young man who obviously thought he was dashing was trying to woo a woman who was obviously, to anyone but himself, looking for pretty coin, not pretty words. He could understand the attitude; pretty words rarely did anyone and help. She should find another line of work, however. venereal diseases were simply too dangerous. Unless she had a cleric among her clients. It wasn't an uncommon arrangement among some orders; Cure Disease for 'free' services.

(OOC: And the background story - Which ended up mostly perceptions.)

And, over there...Semina, it seemed. A young monk, trained by a monastery from birth, parents unknown. For a moment, a brief surge of rage filled him. To break a vow was absolutely despicable and, for all the talk of some people about love, they often proved willing to abandon their principles the moment they proved inconvenient. Like all too many people...

...But, in any case, both their situations had ended well. His former Master had been fair - And Semina's monastary had trained and raised her to a high standard. She was one of the few people he'd met who was rational and orderly; her thought processes were generally clear and uncluttered. Almost, anyway. She believed in defending the innocent because it was 'The right thing to do'.

She'd seemed horribly offended when he asked why someone would defend an innocent who wouldn't defend oneself in turn. Honestly, it seemed obvious to him. One defended the innocent because the lawful kept society running and without them, access to goods, services and civilized society itself would collapse. But to think one's self indebted to someone who hadn't done a favor for you was simply incomprehensible.

(OOC: I wrote the post based on her perceptions of Snorri. I then checked her alignment, which said 'Lawful Neutral'. I think it still fits, but tell me if it doesn't)

From the corner of the inn, Kagan-Zur, carefully scanned the room, it was an old habit, mark you exits, size up crowd, look for those who possibly pose trouble. From the number of adventurer types to locals, it seemed like word of the Duke's offer had gotten around, no surprise really, times have been rough for sell swords of late. Some of the faces looked familiar, others not, but one caught his eye, a little fellow in animal skins and a coon skinned cap, a halfling. To look at him, playing with a mutt like some carefree child, he was not someone that would stand out as dangerous. But Kagan-Zur had seen this halfling before, and he knew better.

It was over a year ago now, Kagan-Zur had signed on with the now defunct, Red Company, he’d been assigned to spy on one Agha Horse-eater, a bandit, slaver and smuggler who was rumored to be supplying weapons to the enemies of local baron, their client. It was Kagen-Zur’s job to find out if it was true and who these rebels were. After quietly killing off one of Agha’s lackeys, Kagan-Zur managed to befriend Agha and hire on to fill in for the now missing lackey.

A couple of nights later Agha announced to his little band that it was time to earn their keep, they loaded up a cart with crates and headed down a little used trail deep into the woods. They reached the rendezvous spot and Kagan-Zur took point on an outcropping to look for trouble. He never saw it coming.

The woods suddenly erupted to life, trees swayed and grasped at the bandits, grass grew and wrapped about them. Then came the swarms of bees, men screamed and Agha screamed loudest, as his armor began to glow red-hot. From his outcropping Kagen-Zur had managed to stay out the effect of the magics, he also managed to remain unseen. But he saw the halfling, along with a few other men of the wilds types. Over the screaming he couldn’t hear everything that was being said, but it was clear that, Agha Horse-eater had wronged this halfling in some way. In the couple of days he’d known him, Kagen-Zur learned that wronging folks was something Agha Horse-eater did a lot of, but this time, it had been his last.

From the corner of the inn, Kagen-Zur, carefully scanned the room, it was an old habit, mark you exits, size up crowd, look for possible trouble. From the number of adventurer types to locals, it seemed like word of the Dukes offer had gotten around, no surprise really, times have been rough for sell swords of late. Some of the faces looked familiar, other not, but one caught his eye, a little fellow in animal skins and coon skinned cap, a halfling. To look at him, playing with a mutt like some carefree child, he was not someone that would stand out as dangerous. But Kagen-Zur had seen this halfling before, and he knew better.
It was over a year ago now, Kagen-Zur had signed on with the now defunct, Red Company, he'd been assigned to spy on one Agha Horse-eater, a bandit, slaver and smuggler who was rumored to be supplying weapons to the enemies of local baron, their client. It was Kagen-Zur's job to find out if it was true and who these rebels were. After quietly killing off one of Agha's lackeys, Kagen-Zur managed to befriend Agha and hire on to fill in for the now missing lackey.
A couple of nights later Agha announced to his little band that it was time to earn their keep, they loaded up a cart and headed down a little use trail deep into the woods. They reached the rendezvous spot and Kagen-Zur took point on an outcropping to look for trouble. He never saw it coming.
The woods suddenly erupted to life, trees swayed and grasped at the bandits, grass grew and wrapped about them. Then came the swarms of bees, men screamed and Agha most of all as his armor began to glow red-hot. From his outcropping Kagen-Zur had managed to stay out the effect of the magics, he also managed to remain unseen. But he saw the halfling, along with a few other men of the wilds types, over the screaming he couldn't hear everything that was being said, but it was clear that, Agha Horse-eater had wronged this halfling in some way. In the coule of days he'd known him, Kagen-Zur learned that wronging folks was something Agha Horse-eater did a lot of, but this time, it had been his last.

Sander surveyed the smoke-filled room from under his cloak's hood and caught sight of Starslinger, who waved upon seeing him. Sander nodded in acknowledgment. He liked the half-elf well enough, and suspected the feeling was mutual, though he knew that if Starslinger had any inkling of the type of person Sander had once been, when he had served a very different deity... his thoughts trailed away from his friend as the memories of the things he'd done in that thing's name, the people he'd killed, intruded on his thoughts.

In a desperate attempt to put the unwelcome thoughts out of his mind, Sander looked around the room, searching for more familiar faces. To his relief, his eyes came to rest on Naran Ezer, the wizard. Sander had only caght a glimpse of him once before, and had never spoken with him, but Ezer had quite the reputation. He was revered for his logical thinking, and his impartial approach to his various ventures, particularly tactics. Sander inwardly hoped that Ezer lived up to the rumors about him: the importance of thinking rationally, and not letting your emotions get the better of you, was something Sander knew all too well.

(OOC: If having Sander be a repenting cleric goes too close to the evil character alignment, i'll change his backstory)

(Repenting from evil is fine)

The other patrons take their portions of breakfast, identical from long practice by the inn staff, and eat it quickly in preparation for their day.  While Ardendale is clearly growing into a trader's town, it still retains the habits of its frontier days.  Quick, bland meals, and off to the fields, the shops, the walls, whatever day of work they have ahead of them.

Of course, it still retains the frontier town suspicions as well.  It is quite easy to tell who is here for the meeting tomorrow, as the villagers give you all a wide berth, narrow eyes, and not quite silent muttering.  It is also apparent by the higher price you paid for what is obviously the same portion of  porridge and dried meat.  You hear the patrons around you grumble at the innkeep.

"I hopes you gets a bit more out of the goldbrickers, Tarvin.  Layabouts need incentive to moves on!" a nearby farmer growls.

"I'll get the same out of them that I do out of you, Willen.  A fair price for a fair meal" replies the proprietor.

"If this be your new kind of patron, you might not get that out of me anymore!" the farmer barks back.

Several exchanges like this prompt the innkeeper to grudgingly pad your bills by a few silver kugats, rolling his eyes and quietly apologizing as he collects it, "Sorry about this, but I have to make money, too".

Finally, the villagers finish off their meals, congregate in small groups for the morning gossip, and start shuffling out the door.  The members of your group are obviously the topic of much early discussion, but after a few minutes, the conversations settle back down.  There is a bit of a commotion as they start to leave en masse, as it appears someone is trying to enter the building, and not making much progress.  A few shouts in Common and Dwarf, a bit of jostling, and a Dwarf in dusty trail clothes finds himself outside the throng and finally able to stand without being knocked about.

Except for several off-duty soldiers and a merchant or two, the common room finally empties, and the daily commotion starts anew outside the walls of the inn.

Warming herself by the fire place and finishing off her broth, Semina senses the tension building in the tavern.  She listens to the disapproval from other patrons about the company present, while sitting her bowl back down by the fire place.  Although the bar owner holds his own with the village aggravators, Semina finally grows tired of sitting around, waiting.  

She walks over towards the one they call Tarvin to return her bowl and mug.  Never taking her eyes off the other patrons, she waits patiently for the bar keeps attention.   As she places one hand on the bar, she notices the gentleman sitting next to her whispering into another's ear about what Semina's business is in town.  Semina just smiles a little underneath her black hair, and gladly hands over the flatware to Tarvin, with an extra piece of silver for all the trouble she's caused.  

She begins to head towards the door, but before she could take one step, all of the  restless town folk get up off their stools and begin to exit.  Semina decides to give them a wide birth, not wanting to draw anymore attention to herself, or get caught up in the stampede.  As she watches them leave in chaotic fashion, Semina takes notice of the groans from what she believes is another dwarf headed into the tavern.  "Poor guy," Semina whispers to herself.  She hopes he is not stomped into the floor boards, because even though he is heard, you can not see him.

"Moradin's teeth!" Thraim exclaimed once he was free of the crowd, "you'd think that there was a fire sale at the local brothel or something!"

Thraim stood in the doorway of the tavern and made a point of making a harrumph noise as he dusted off his worn leather traveling cloak with his leather hat.  He adjusted himself with large movements and lots of noises whistled through his thick black beard and mustache.

Thraim is large for a dwarf; he stands a few hairs shy of five feet tall, and he is very muscular.  His eyes are sparkling blue in color.  His hair, which is coal-black and long, is pulled back into a pony-tail, and tied with a piece of leather thong.  His beard is also coal-black in color, and it is full and long.  It is braided, and a piece of leather thong is inter-woven into the beard.  He is wearing dark brown leather boots, dark green leather pants, and a brown cloth shirt.  He is carrying a worn leather backpack as well.  Other than his large size, he looks like a normal dwarf except for the weapon on his waist.  Thraim is wearing a longsword on his right hip.  He also carries a dagger in his belt, and light crossbow on his back, as well as a quiver of bolts.

Thraim used the ruse of the bluster at the entrance of the tavern to assess the room, and its occupants.  After seeing so many locals exit the tavern at the same time, it made him suspicious of entering the tavern.  He quickly scanned the common room, and came to the conclusion that nothing crazy was happening but that it was quite a diverse bunch of non-locals.  After Thraim finished his preening at the entrance, he looks everyone in the room in the eyes if they meet his gaze.  

As he walks up to the bar, he says to the barkeep, "please give me thickest local brew, I haven't had me breakfast yet."

Thraim chuckles at his little joke as he removes his backpack and puts it on the floor under his feet.  He sits down at the bar, and looks at anyone near him with an acknowledging smile.

Quote from: Drohem;260318As he walks up to the bar, he says to the barkeep, "please give me thickest local brew, I haven't had me breakfast yet."

Thraim chuckles at his little joke as he removes his backpack and puts it on the floor under his feet. He sits down at the bar, and looks at anyone near him with an acknowledging smile.

"Well, imagine that!" laughs Tarvin.  "Nary a dwarf in eight months, and now two in one day!  Since the frontier was pushed back, there isn't much traffic from the Pardash mountains anymore.  I can see you aren't from around those parts, but when we had more folks seeking employment to guard the caravans, I had more call for this."

He takes a large mug and pulls from a cask under the bar, swiftly adding two shots of whiskey and a crust of black bread.

"I've only got another quarter-barrel in the back, so I hope you aren't bringing your whole clan in to visit!"  He winks at you with a broad grin.  Momentarily, he turns to the woman returning her bowl and utensils.  "Thank you, miss, I appreciate your patronage".

"I think this is how they used to order Moradin's Mead, but as I said, it has been a number of months since a dwarf has graced this hall."  He pushes the mug over to Thraim, but keeps his grip on the handle and after glancing around the common room, leans in a bit.  In a lowered voice he says "That will be five silver kargats, kind sir."

Heathcliffe smiles bemusedly at the open candor between the two dwarves as he pulls out some tobacco (grown himself) and begins to smoke it in a fine (for woodland living that is) pipe. Usually, in his experience, dwarf meetings are a little less exciting.

Kagan-Zur sits back in the shadowed corner, slowly eating his gruel. 'There be time enough to get to know these folks," he thought.  'That is if they all get hired, for now best to lay low and observe, people often talk too much, too soon, you can learn more by watching and listening.'

`This', Naran thought, only confirmed his general opinions. Most people wouldn't give a stranger a copper if they were starving on the street.

Once again, helping those who would not help you out of 'morality' was proven completely foolish. And those who professed principles rarely held them in times of stress...Even minor stress.

Oh, he paid.

He also offered a silent prayer to St. Cuthbert to remind the villagers why cheating people is unlawful.

(Missed the second page when I posted)

He observed the newcomer...Dwarf, but likely more subtle than most. Although he did not know how to wield them himself, the longsword and dagger were both weapons of skill more than strength. The crossbow was more 'dwarven'.

And once the room had emptied, it also proved easy to see who was likely here to answer the Duke's message.

(OOC: St. Cuthbert - 3e LN deity of justice without mercy. I could switch it to another appropriate AD&D deity, if Cuthbert isn't in AD&D)

Quote from: Narf the Mouse;260351(OOC: St. Cuthbert - 3e LN deity of justice without mercy. I could switch it to another appropriate AD&D deity, if Cuthbert isn't in AD&D)

(Cuthbert's good, I have my old Greyhawk boxed set if I need to look him up.  :)  )

As the room emptied, Sander decided it would be as good a time as any to converse with Starslinger. He got up as quietly as was possible while wearing a plate of armor under his cloak. As he approached Starslinger, he lowered his hood to reveal his face. He was a young, handsome man of medium height, his curly, dirty blonde hair was so long that it partially obscured his brilliant blue eyes.
When he reach Starslinger's corner of the inn, he greeted him in a soft, humble voice.
"It's good to see you again, though I would never have expected you to come here, considering the events that brought you to my temple."

Semina slyly looks over in the Dwarf's direction.  Upon hearing him order his breakfast,  she notices a  noble look about him,  dwarfs are such a proud race.  Measuring him to be tad smaller in stature then Snorri,  he seems to be just as fierce as a competitor, judging by his choice of weapons.  Semina listens to Tavin thank her for the extra silver piece she threw in for the trouble and smiles "you are welcome kind sir."  Bowing her head in both of their directions, she gently glides back towards the fire place now that the tension has died down.  Observing will have to do for now, until someone offers a clue as to why the Duke has summoned for help.  Approaching with her final step, Semina stops in her tracks.  Someone has captured her attention, one from her tortured past. Naran's face says it all, not happy to see her, but not completely disappointed.  Weighing her options on whether he would welcome the company, she decides the worst he would do to her is ignore her.  She walks in Naran's direction and approaches cautiously.  "Do you mind if I join you?"

Quote from: StormBringer;260325"I think this is how they used to order Moradin's Mead, but as I said, it has been a number of months since a dwarf has graced this hall."  He pushes the mug over to Thraim, but keeps his grip on the handle and after glancing around the common room, leans in a bit.  In a lowered voice he says "That will be five silver kargats, kind sir."

"It's a bargain and I'm glad to pay it!" Thraim said as he reached into his belt pouch, and put a single gold piece on the counter.

Thraim looks over to the woman that returned the utensils, and gives her a wide courtesy smile before taking a sip of his Moradin's Mead.

Tarvin placed Thraim's change, five silver kargats, on the counter just as Thraim finished his first drink.

As Thraim deftly picks up all five coins in one smooth motion, he smiles at Tarvin and says, "My name is Thraim Glorerg, and I am here to meet the Duke's Proxy to find myself some gainful employment killing gnolls and orcs."

Naran looked up from his...Meal...Somewhat suprised. Semina had always been...Confusing. He wasn't sure why she had decided to talk to him, but she had always had an...Enjoyable effect on his thoughts.

"No" He paused for a moment, unsure of where to go. "Your company is welcome."

Tarvin placed Thraim's change, five silver kargats, on the counter just as Thraim finished his first drink.
(For future reference, I will be running the NPCs.  ;) )

Quote from: Drohem;260421...he smiles at Tarvin and says, "My name is Thraim Glorerg, and I am here to meet the Duke's Proxy to find myself some gainful employment killing gnolls and orcs."

"As best I know, you will have your chance after the Lord Steward arrives tomorrow after... noon..." Tavin trails off as he turns the gold coin over in his hand several times, squinting at it.  He holds it up to the light, and brings it in closer to his face.  

"By the black soul of the goblin king!" he mutters, as his face lights up.  "This is a Dhirvian Luna from Quth Jeldak's reign!  I asked my cousin to pick me one up two years ago, before Quth Veltix replaced him."  He snaps out of his reverie over the coin, and there is a hint of resentment in his voice, "She's been back several times since then, too, but no coin.  This one is the last coin I needed to complete my Dhirvet Prefecture collection!"

He chortles while looking at the coin from several angles.  "Tell you what, this is certainly worth a keg of dwarven stout.  You can finish the one under the bar, and the one in the back room as well.  I don't expect another pair of dwarves through here anytime soon!"  He puts the five silver kagats in front of Thraim's mug, and watches as the last merchant pays for her meal and nods farewell to Tarvin.  The merchant makes her way out the door, and he indicates the common room with a grand sweep of his arm, turning to address all of you.

"I apologize, humble travellers, but the locals are not worldly, nor are they particularly receptive to strangers."  Tarvin looks at each of you in turn, his thumbs hooked behind his braces, and continues in a rich, clear voice.  "This time of year is somewhat slow, as the Blue Sun Fesitival is still a fortnight away.  Therefore, I offer you each a room upstairs where you will be served breakfast there tomorrow, and better than this farmer's gruel, I assure you"  As if anticipating the response, he holds his hands up, palms outward and nods his head forward.

"I know what you are thinking," he quickly begins, " 'the bumpkins are trying to fleece us again'.  Nothing could be farther from the truth, my friends."  Tarvin drops his hands to his braces again and looks out at your group.  "The bit of extra coin I collected for the benefit of keeping the locals from getting upset will cover both the rooms and the meals.  I hope you are not too upset with me; occasionally, the villagers need to be assuaged.  And as much as I would like to, I can't keep a roof over my family's head on the hopes that enough adventurers pass through to pay the bills."  He glances out the window, judging the time by the length of the shadows to be three hours before highsun.  "I have matters to attend to and can't return late to serve dinner, so I must be off in an hour, no later.  If you have nothing else pressing for me, I will leave early and my wife or the others will attend you.  Elsewise, if there is anything I can help you with...?"  Tarvin waits somewhat expectantly for your responses.

Thraim raised his mug, nodded at Tarvin, and said in loud voice, "you are a most gracious host!  I accept your offer with gratitude."

Heathcliffe looks around the room before meeting Tavin's eyes and warmingly shaking his head. He then continues smoking his pipe and wonders if he acted hastily. After all, he could have asked for some biscuits... Heathcliffe loves biscuits.

As Naran silently added a PS to his previous prayer, he spent a few moments contemplating the innkeeper. Correcting a dishonest action through dishonest means...Certainly a mental puzzle.

Snorri had still not eaten enough, but beggars can't be choosers, so he grumbles quietly to himself and thumps his booted feet up on the table. Crossing his arms on his ample belly, he leans back on his chair and closes his eyes to minute slits. His breathing deepens and levels out. To casual observers, he has fallen fast asleep, but he keeps an eye on the common room through his lashes. Sometimes it paid to keep your competition (or indeed, enemies) off-guard and wrong-footed. Let them think he was a slovenly fool. He had learned early that in the land of the humans appearances were everything and he used that knowledge accordingly.

Content by the welcome Naran offers her, Semina begins to sit at his table.  She ponders on how to start up a conversation, but is interrupted by Tavin's offer for rooms for the night.  She looks towards Tavin  and give him a thankful smile, and bows once more.  Since the Lord Steward would not be arriving till tomorrow afternoon, that will give Semina some time to stock up on provisions, and take a look around  town to find a place to practice her Dokuen chi.

"Maybe another time old friend, I have so much to do before noon tomorrow." Semina explains to Naran. Semi-relieved of not having to dredge up the past, Semina heads towards her baggage.  Wanting to get a room situated for the night, she picks up her belongings and approaches Tavin to secure her room.

Thraim leaned back on his stool, with his back against the bar so that he could view the common room.  

Hmm, that breed looks familiar for some reason, Thraim thought to himself as he took another drink from his mug.

Thraim swished the brew around in his mouth to get a proper tasting of the Moradin's Mead as he looked over at the half-orc in the corner.

Kagan-Zar? No, it was...Zur, yeah that's it.  Kagan-Zur, Thraim reflected as he swallowed the brew.

Thraim used to be contracted with the Red Company as a Scout, and he remembered Kagan-Zur.  Thraim's contract with the Red Company had ended a couple months after Kagan-Zur signed on with the Red Company.  Thraim had rarely seen Kagan-Zur because he spent the majority of the last months of his service in the field.  However, Thraim has a sharp mind and rarely forgets a face.

I wonder if he remembers me?  Thraim thought to himself and he moved his gaze off the corner, so as not to draw too much attention for looking there.  

Thraim looks over at dwarf sleeping at the table and thinks to himself, Wow!  He's taller than me.  It's been a long while since I've seen a dwarf taller than myself.  What in the Nine Hells is he sleeping for?  The barkeep has left a whole keg of Moradin's Mead for both of us, and he's sleeping?  Hmm, I'll have to do something about that.

Thraim grabbed his mug, and the keg of Moradin's Mead, as he stood up and walked over to the table where the tall dwarf was sleeping.  

Thraim cleared his throat loudly and said to the sleeping dwarf, "May I join you, and share this fine Moradin's Mead?"

Naren blinked. "Understandable."

Once again, Semina had left him bemused and slightly confused - Not to mention bereft of decent conversation.

Well, he still had Morovain's Contemplations of Death Magic to finish. It was interesting how he dissected necromantic spells from a moral standpoint, highlighting and expounding upon how each was neutral, or evil - Or, in a few rare cases, good.

Morovain was a very odd duck, as one aquantance of his would say - A necromancer who sought to use his spells for good, even to the point of inventing new spells. Unfortunately, one way or another, none of his spellbooks had survived.

(OOC: That ok? Could I get a Bag of Holding to keep stuff in, at this level?)

Now, he just had to hope he could concentrate on it.

Unfortunately for that, five minutes later found himself putting the book away. He had kept wondering what Semina would think of this or that paragraph.

Most distracting.

Quote from: Narf the Mouse;260734(OOC: That ok? Could I get a Bag of Holding to keep stuff in, at this level?)

(I don't figure you would actually need one at this point.  How many books do you have?)

"Well met, Sander," Slinger said with a kind smile.  
After offering the next chair to Sander with a motion to sit, he continued.
"Yes, the 'incident' with the Duke's daughter has continued to hound me.  I am trying to lay low, but the cost of spell components and the basic staples of survival have me searching for work in smaller villages, lest I run into someone who recognizes me.  It is good to see you my friend.  Are you here for work or to proselytize?"

'Is that newcomer dwarf watching me?' thought Kagan-Zur and he tried not to show a sliver discomfort under that glance.
'Let them look,' he thought, 'It was to be expected, they see but an enemy, most do, especially dwarves. Still, strange to see two of them traveling independently and so far from their mountains, could it be some stratagem of theirs? Best to keep an eye on them as well, and if it is an enemy they seek, they will find this half-blood a formidable one indeed.'
Kagan -Zur had long come to terms with his heritage, his orc side gave strengths that humans lacked, his human side gave cunning that orcs lacked and great Morrigan, lady of war, gave him the focus to use his gifts to his advantage.

Sander smiled and took the seat offered by Slinger.
"I'm actually here looking for work. In addition to being a healer, i'm rather... experienced in combat; perhaps moreso than I should be." He reflected for a moment on the implications of what he had just said, then resumed speaking.
"What do you make of our alleged comrades?"

A busybody of no minor import, Heathcliffe sits with mouth agape after overhearing Starslinger's admission. He thinks to himself, so it was true! He quickly closes his mouth and looks elsewhere, lest someone catches him leering.

Snorri spies the loud dwarf approaching through lowered lashes and starts as though awakened, when addressed. Rubbing his eyes blearily, he sits up straight, "Interupt my rest, why don't you." he mutters irratably.

"Here, have a seat. Give me some of that brew and i'll forgive you." He picks up his hammer and lays it across his lap. He didn't want any 'mistakes' where that was concerned.

"The Duke's request has attracted more flies than a week old turd, hasn't it?"

Quote from: One Horse Town;260948Snorri spies the loud dwarf approaching through lowered lashes and starts as though awakened, when addressed. Rubbing his eyes blearily, he sits up straight, "Interupt my rest, why don't you." he mutters irratably.

"Here, have a seat. Give me some of that brew and i'll forgive you." He picks up his hammer and lays it across his lap. He didn't want any 'mistakes' where that was concerned.

"The Duke's request has attracted more flies than a week old turd, hasn't it?"

Thraim chuckled lightly at the irritation in the dwarf's tone and words, and at the gesture of putting his hammer across his lap.  Thraim placed the keg of Moradin's Mead on the table, and then sat down at the table across the dwarf.

"Indeed.  The lure of easy money and killing always brings out the dregs," Thraim spoke in a conversational tone as he toss out the contents of the other dwarf's mug and poured him a mug of the Moradin's Mead.

Thraim pushed the mug towards the other dwarf and then poured himself some more mead.  Once he finished pouring, he raised up in a gesture of salute to the other dwarf.

"I am Thraim, son of Gimthur, from stronghold Glorerg.  It's been a while since I seen one of my kind," Thraim said before he took another sip of the absolutely delicious dwarven mead.

Thraim wiped the mead residue from his beard and mustache with his sleeve and said, "I admit that I am quite surprised to see so many scholarly looking types here for some gnoll and orc killing.  Maybe there's more to this job than meets the eye?"

Naren could already tell his concentration was off. The book was engrossing as always; even if he thought ethics far superior to ideals, any well thought-out treatise was worth reading, even if only to see what the opposition was doing. Knowing how your belongings were likely to get stolen always helped in keeping them in your possession, for example.

Besides, '101 Ways of Bypassing Security' was also useful in a dungeon. And better yet, it had a forward by that parties' Paladin, complete with church stamp, asserting that the thief in question was Good in alignment. Paladins were empty-headed idealists, but at least they were almost always honest empty-headed idealists. It generally kept law officials from making too much fuss if they found it.

"...very well, then, I will take my leave.  Breakfast seems to be the socializing hour in these parts, so the farmers usually take supper at home.  But with the festival nearing, they are enjoying dinner here a bit more often.  If you wish, you may take your dinner here, or in your rooms if you wish to avoid further... unpleasantness." Tarvin's tone has a hint of pleading to it, which you take to indicate it would be a kindness to him as well as yourselves.  "The local shopkeepers are less concerned with outsiders, as long as your money or trade is good.  You likely won't see the travelling merchants over here, they are loathe to have their wagons out of their sight.  When you are ready, my wife will show you to your rooms. If you have things you wish to store, we can provide sturdy locks, if you have none of your own."

Striding to the door, Tarvin waves his farewell, "I hope the rest of your stay here isn't marred by the early experiences!  Gods' watch, travellers!"

Quote from: Oni Kadaki;260895Sander smiled and took the seat offered by Slinger.[....]
"What do you make of our alleged comrades?"

"To be honest, anytime I can immerse myself in a crowd, the better." Slinger quipped.  "The Duke seems to have eyes everywhere.  In a crowd, I can shun the attention somewhat."
He continued with a hushed tone, "I'm leary of the Orcish fellow and it seems like every protection racket seems to have the stuny ones about.  As long as they stay sober, I suppose the muscle will be appreciated."

"The power of the stars, however, that's real protection."
"How about you?" he asked, "the motley crew suit your tastes?"

Semina pays attention toTavin once more as he addresses the group, and walks over towards his wife.  "Will you please direct me to a room?" she asks.  Lowering her voice even more, "I will need one of those fine locks your husband speaks of."  Of course she will not store anything of value to her in the room, but some of her stuff she might put extra security on.  Besides her thief training has taught her well on how to secure and hide items of importance.  

Not wanting to waist idle time with chit chat, Semina wants to be on her way towards town.  'Icerick must be starving by now,' thinking to herself, 'I must buy some grains and apples to feed him tonight at the local stable.'

Kagan-Zur has remained in his shadowed corner continuing to slowly eat his gruel impassively, but the more observant amongst you might get the inkling that he's been methodical watching the room while listening in on the various conversations.
After Tavin makes mention of the locks, Kagan-Zur also approaches Tavin's wife, flashing both her and Semina, a brief, slightly unnerving, snageltoothed smile.
"I'll take a room, a corner one with a window if possible," he says, in a hoarse staccato. "One of those locks, too." Again there is that flash of a crooked smile.

A little startled by Kagan-Zur's quick approach, Semina steps back a little.  Always on her guard and wary of strangers, she fondles the handle of the hand axe hidden under her robe.  When she realizes the half-orc means no harm, she takes her hand off the axe, and extends it as an offer of greetings.  

"My name is Semina of the order of Iskgard, and it is my pleasure to meet you." Wondering if the half-orc will take her hand, Semina's thoughts are preoccupied with how other races intrigue her.  Studying other races and cultures is the very hobby she throws her self into.  As she waits for his response to her greeting, she looks toward Tavin's wife, "A corner room for me as well, if there are any left?"

Kagan-Zur tenses as Semina's hand comes up and he just barely checks his own hand from flying to the hilt of his broadsword as he realizes the gesture is one of friendship.
His red eyes meet hers, then go back to her extended hand.
"Kagan-Zur" he says, shaking her hand. "Pleasure's mine."

QuoteAs Semina waits for Kagan's response to her greeting, she looks toward Tavin's wife, "A corner room for me as well, if there are any left?"
His red eyes meet hers, then go back to her extended hand.
"Kagan-Zur" he says, shaking her hand. "Pleasure's mine."

Tavin's wife waits patiently for the exchange of greetings, then slides two heavy locks towards Semina and Kagan-Zur.
"I am Nadia Usraa, and if you need anything, please let me know."  She glides out from behind the counter and pauses halfway to the stairs, ready to show the pair up to their rooms.

Kagan-Zur holds out a hand out in a ladies first sort of gesture, and (providing Semina takes his offer) will following along behind.

Semina turns back towards Kagan-Zur and gives him an encouraging smile to his gesture.  "Nice name," she says, "have a splendid afternoon, and maybe I will catch you later?"  Semina then begins to follows Tavin's wife Nadia to her room.
 
The door is open, and Semina listens to last minute details on what is expected for the rooms.  She walks into the room, and closes the door behind her.  Immediately she begins to glance under the bed, and in the closet looking for a place to conceal her belongings.  Finding a loose floor board, Semina picks it up and notices enough room to stash unimportant stuff like her bed roll and back pack.  Semina secures her valuables to her belt pouch, and shelters other items under her robe.  

She then locks the door and heads down stairs towards Nadia, leaning towards the counter,  "How much for that room again?" she says,   "Also, do you know the closest merchant that might have apples and grain for horses?"

Quote from: timrichter9;261050"The power of the stars, however, that's real protection."
"How about you?" he asked, "the motley crew suit your tastes?"

Sander looked over towards Naren.
"I look forward to working with one as logical and impartial as Naren is reputed to be. As for the others... the orc, there's something familiar about him, not about his person, but about his creed. I am wary of him. As for the others, i'm ambivalent."

Naren, meanwhile, was not watching Semina. He was reading a book. It did not matter that she was so eminently distracting. A good conversationalist. Occasionally walking away...

...Sorry, logic is a bit out to lunch right now. Call back later. :D

Quote from: Venosha;261382She then locks the door and heads down stairs towards Nadia, leaning towards the counter,  "How much for that room again?" she says,   "Also, do you know the closest merchant that might have apples and grain for horses?"

"The rooms are taken care of, there is no need to worry of that.  If you want feed for your horse, we have some available, or you can go down to Nogle's, just past the paddocks where the travelling merchants keep their wagons," Nadia leans in conspiratorially, "you can't mistake the smell".  She smiles briefly and wishes you a good day before returning to the business of running the inn.

Once in his room, Kagan-Zur will also thoroughly investigate his things, with special care given to looking for secret doors from which a unscrupulous innkeeper might waylay a sleeping guest. Once that is done he will lock or bar the door from the inside, check out and investigate the view from the window. Then using his ring to turn invisible he will sneak out the window and carefully investigate the town.
OOC: I already have all my gear and I'm not needing a blow by blow of what I see, but I figure being the paranoid type, paranoia being a occupational hazard, he would look around town and spy out any potential dangers to him. Providing nothing out of the ordinary happens he'll eventually sneak back into his room, have dinner in his room, then get some rest until it's time to meet with Duke's representative tomorrow.

Quote from: GrayPumpkin;261441OOC: I already have all my gear and I'm not needing a blow by blow of what I see, but I figure being the paranoid type, paranoia being a occupational hazard, he would look around town and spy out any potential dangers to him. Providing nothing out of the ordinary happens he'll eventually sneak back into his room, have dinner in his room, then get some rest until it's time to meet with Duke's representative tomorrow.

If everyone is comfortable with formatting, putting OOC stuff in italics will probably work best.  We'll see how it goes.

Much to your chagrin, the paranoid tendencies are not needed.  Merchants talk about merchanting stuff, the town guard talks about town guarding stuff, and the farmers talk about farming stuff.  A few bits of uninteresting gossip about people you don't know, the occasional discussion about the new people passing through, and a few scattered concerns about the Gnoll raids.  One of the town guards, who looks to be more senior than the rest, can be overheard talking to some of the troops under his command.  The rumours he has heard are in regards to the unusual makeup of the raiding parties.  The Gnoll leaders, who never consort with trolls normally, have been seen leading mixed groups including trolls, orcs and some goblins.  It's been heard that one of the scouts the Duke sent out to investigate returned a broken man, spending most of his time sobbing or gibbering.

Nothing else of interest seems to be occurring around town, I assume you are supplied and equipped how you want?  No other purchases to make?

Character Name : Adaralieh
Player Name : Shellbee

Elven Ranger/Magic User

Str:   16  To Hit:+0  Dam:+1  WA:+350  OD:1-3  BB:10%
Int:   15  Bonus Lang:5 Min:7 Max:11
Wis:   15  MA: 0
Dex:   10  R:0 AA:0  DA:0
Con:   14  HP:0  SS:88%  RS:92%
Chr:   11  Max:4 Loy:0 RA: 0

Age: 200
Level: 4/4
HP: 40
AC: -1
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Move: 120 ft
Exps: 10,001/10,001

+10% Experience bonus (Str over 16)

Ranger Abilites:
+4 damage vs giant type humanoids (Bugbears, Ettins, Giants, Gnolls,
                                   Goblins, Hobgoblins, Kobolds, Ogres,
                            Ogre Magi, Orcs, Trolls)
Surprise 3 in 6
Surprised 1 in 6
Tracking outdoors

Elf racial abilities:

Infravision 60ft
90% Resist Sleep and Charm
+1 to hit with short or long bow or sword
1 in 6 detect secret doors
2 in 6 looking for secret doors
3 in 6 concealed door
4 in 6 to surprise when alone

Languages: Common, Elvish, Gnome, Halfling, Goblin, Hobgoblin, Orcish, Gnoll

Weapon Proficiencies: Long sword, long bow, mace, dagger

Spells:

1st Level
Affect Normal Fires
Burning Hands
Charm Person
Detect Magic
Feather Fall
Hold Portal
Light
Magic Missile
Push
Read Magic
Spider Climb
Unseen Servant

2nd level
Audible Glamer
Continual Light
Detect Evil
Detect Invisibility
Invisibility
Levitate
Magic Mouth
Stinking Cloud
Strength
Web
Wizard Lock

3rd Level
Blink
Clairvoyance
Dispel Magic
Feign Death
Fireball
Gust of Wind
Haste
Hold Person
Lightning Bolt
Slow
Water Breathing

Equipment

Studded Leather Armor +3 5 gp 15lbs
Shield +3
Long Sword +2 15gp 6lbs
Footman's Mace
Dagger 2gp 1lb
Long Bow +2
Quiver w/ 40 arrows
Bedroll 2sp 5lbs
Flint & steel 1 gp
6 days trail rations 1 gp 4lbs
2 waterskins 2 gp 8lbs


Money & treasure

Studded Leather Armor +3 1200xp
Shield +3 800xp
Long Bow +2 1000xp
Long Sword +2 800xp
Healing Potion(x2) 400xp
Extra Healing Potion  400xp
Oil of Slipperiness 400xp

10,000gp

"Thank you for the information," Semina says "I need the walk anyways." Looking over the tavern once more, and its occupants she decides to head out the door.  A little hike ought to clear her mind, and a remote place is needed for practicing her Dokuen chi.  

Winding her way down down the dirt road, Semina picks up the scent of merchants horses just as Nadia described it, and finds Nogle's place.  His store is overflowing with apples of every color, and other hearty food Icerick would love. ' The darn creature eats better then I do' she laughs to herself.  She picks up four apples and 6 days worth of grain rations for Icerick. He can feed at the stable until we are either hired by the duke, or turned away.  

Semina finds a hidden pathway behind the village which seems to lead to a clearing.  'Perfect' noting how wonderful it was to finally be alone. She sets down her satchels of food and begins her chi meditations.

Gnolls, goblins, orcs... why did I make that bet with Larast about checking on incursions along the forests border. One toss of a coin, and letting him use his coin, to far into my cups that night serves me right I suppose.  Even worse to be set out with this self possesed female Ranger who thinks it will all work out because were right and its our forest, idiots abound and I seem to find them most often. I need to find a better crowd of drinking companions.

 "Come on Ada.. daylights wasting I want to set camp off from this road aways, to many people travelling of late".  
 
 Humans have an outpost further East .  Ardendale, even in their namings they fall short, a stink pit hole with delusions of grandeur constant odors of  what they call "cooking" more likely boiled rat and shoe leather. Stoneworked walls and fortifications made from uncut rock and clay suitable for keeping wild beasts out and not much else.  They seem to be everywhere now, youd think after 200 years they would have at least learned to cook properly.

 Moving off into the trees at the northern side of the road I find an old campsite with a decent fire ring "Ada collect some wood please Ill start dinner".  Fortunatly Ada did manage to get us a nice fat rabbit on our journey through the forest. I  found a nice patch of tubers near an abandoned farmstead as well. Placing my precious spices and cooking utensils to the side I start to prep our dinner.

Semina begins to walk back towards the Inn, after a successful chi session.  Well rested, and her mind in good frame, she decides to stop by the stable to feed Icerick.  She cuts an apple in two for him, makes sure all provisions are in order and briefs him on the events of the day. Observing that Icerick has been watered, fed and groomed, Semina realizes she is bit hungry herself and walks into the Inn.  She makes out the same mysterious individuals from before including Naren, which she flashes a quick smile too.  

Semina walks over to Nadia and asks "Would you mind bring up some broth, bread and hot water to my room for dinner?"  She has decided to stay in her room the rest of the night, and most of tomorrow, until the Lord Steward is about to arrive.  Taking one final look at the crowd, her eyes keep wandering towards Naren.  'Oh great, here I go again'

Naren finds himself smiling automatically. Most distressing. (Riiight...)

After a relaxing night by the fire, Heathcliff swiftly retires outside and catches a brisk sleep in the stable loft.

About an hour later, Naren put his current book in the bag and walks up to Nadia. "Your husband has an interesting method of dealing with conflicts." he comments, without preamble. "A room, a large lock and a small lock, if you have one, please."

Quote from: Narf the Mouse;261743About an hour later, Naren put his current book in the bag and walks up to Nadia. "Your husband has an interesting method of dealing with conflicts." he comments, without preamble. "A room, a large lock and a small lock, if you have one, please."

"He is accustomed to dealing with conflict.  You could even say that is why we are here in Ardendale." Nadia replies.  "Your locks, and may the gods watch over your sleep."

(OOC: How do I roll Int? :D)

Naren pays, commenting "Only the reliable ones, thanks." With that comment, he leaves to go to sleep.

An hour into 'A Short Treatise of the Ethics of Magic Use and the Many Quandaries and Concerns Therein, Revised Edition, Vol. 1 of 32, Introduction', he falls asleep.

Whoop, forgot a detail - The large lock locks the door; the small lock locks the large lock to whatever the large lock, locks too.

...Is that too many 'lock's' to be comprehensible? :D

The doors themselves have locks built in.  Unusual in most inns, but this was the Duke's hunting lodge.

(OOC: Great!

...If there's any windows, he can probably lock them too! :D)

With the exception of a few early festival celebrators being escorted home by the town guards, the night passes uneventfully into the next day.  Deciding to avoid the previous day's breakfast problems, you arrive in the common room shortly after the break of dawn to take breakfast.  You are served by a cheerful Tavin and his wife, who inform you that after the mid-day meal, the common room will be closed for preparations, but you can still take meals and such in your rooms.

The town at large is unaware or unconcerned with the arrival of the Lord Steward, but the guards are in dress uniforms, and they have taken up what are clearly standard posts around the village.  Notably, there are two stationed outside the front door of the inn, and several more patrol the area.  Two make their rounds through the village on horseback, while two more on horse keep to the inn.  They may have appeared to be lax the previous day, but you now see they are well trained soldiers, prepared for keeping the peace and safety of the village.

Harvest is still a couple of months away in this part of the world; the dog-days are well behind you, but it is a clear, warm day.  The mountains in the far distance are tipped in white, signaling the oncoming winter, but that is a concern for another time.  As evening approaches, the warmth and buzz of cicadas lulls you into a pleasant stupor for a time, as well as the rest of the village.  Peaceful times among peaceful people,

Which makes the arrival of the honour guard all the more jarring.  They ride into town around mid afternoon, a good deal earlier than expected.  They are dusty, worn out, and their horses are quite tired.  The Lord Steward was obviously pushing his men to get here with all haste, lending an air of foreboding to the oncoming night.

"Tarvin, my good man," the Lord Steward calls as he walks towards the bar, "my men will need some refreshment before proceeding to the barracks, if you have a mind.  Also, I will need to make myself presentable."

Tarvin nods, smiling, and begins serving the men mulled wine.  They nod to him as they take their cups, never quite relaxing.  The Lord Steward turns to you briefly, making a mental note of your number.  "I will return shortly, and then we must begin our deliberations, for time is of the essence".  Turning sharply, he strides to a door on the far side of the room and closes it quickly behind him.

The Honour Guard stretches sore muscles, quickly drinks the small cups of wine almost ritually, then three of them turn to leave.  Two walk directly out the door, where you hear them mount their steeds outside and ride off at a trot, while one moves to a point halfway to the door where the Lord Steward removed himself, and the other takes a position by the front door.

Half an hour later, the Steward emerges from the back area.  His armour is less dusty, but certainly not clean, to which he seems accustomed.  The armour itself is finely decorated, but also clearly made for use, as is the sword at his side.  Both are well suited for battle, and by the looks, have seen their fair share.  His demeanour and bearing describe a man who is as comfortable in parades as he is on the front lines leading soldiers.  He stops briefly and turns to what appears to be the Honour Guard Captain, his back to the room.  They exchange some words, and the Lord Steward takes an official tone, "Very good, Captain, see to your men, we leave at first light."  The Captain strides across the room, relays some orders to his subordinate at the door, and you soon hear the familiar sounds of horse barding rattling as the Captain rides off to join his men.

"First, then, I would welcome you all to Ardendale," the Steward begins in a friendly tone.  "I trust your journeys here were not fraught with danger, although I have familiarity enough of adventuring to know this is unlikely true," he smiles broadly.  "Tarvin is an excellent host; one night under his care is enough to ease even a month of trail riding.  By the gods' blessings, we can only afford you one more of those, for things have become even more dire."

"I am sure you are all aware of the general request that was made.  Duke Tsovas claimed the area, and by hard work and his own sweat in many cases, cleared and settled the wilderness.  Peoples from across the lands came and found prosperity and relief from bandits and other worries.  The Duke welcomed them all, and the Duchy of Cynosure has prospered greatly."  His voice is filled with pride, and it is not hard to guess the Steward had an active hand in the annotated history relayed to you.  "However," his voice becomes more grave as he continues, "we are not a land of war and conquest.  The other noble houses have treaties with us, but they are not always at ease with the plain language employed by the Duke.  This has caused some tensions, but even moreso, the Duke is unwilling to have a standing army from a neighbor in his land on the off-chance these recent incursions are more serious than expected."

"Therefore, the Duke is willing to pay for your services.  We do not need a strike force; from what little we have been able to gather ourselves, a group ten times your size would not significantly hamper their operations.  What the Duke is in need of is further information.  He negotiates with the other nobles as we speak, but as unwilling as he is to have their armies on our soil to no purpose, the other nobles are even less willing to commit an unknown number of troops to snipe hunting.

"What we do know is that bands of humanoids that were perfectly content to war among themselves are now joining forces.  In all honesty, we were prepared to let them decimate themselves, then rout the others further south on that border, so our defences there are not what they could have been.  It has been shored up, but perhaps a mite late," he explains in a voice tinged with weariness.  "Few of our own scouts have returned, so we have precious little information with which to discuss matters.  The Duke needs stout adventurers like yourselves to discover what has forged these humanoids into a coherent army.

"It would be best if you can avoid engagements with the humanoids.  At this point, they don't seem to have a very effective means of communication, so they would be hard pressed to discover some small losses.  What we do need is estimates of their numbers and locations, and troop compositions.  This information is critical to our preparations if the raids continue to escalate."  The Lord Steward pauses for a moment to drink his wine, and returns his gaze to you.

"But more importantly, the Duke needs to uncover the driving force behind this humanoid army.  Our suspicions are many, and we have next to nothing by way of pursuing one or another with any certainty.  That is your primary goal, which in the course of, you should be able to get rough estimates for troop strengths and such."  he opens a small iron-banded oaken chest and pulls out several rolled sheets of vellum.  "This is your permission to operate in the Duke's name, your writ of organization, and a map of the area just beyond the border.  You will need not severally carry the documents; however, there are three of each in case of loss, or if your needs force your group to split up.  Pursuant to the writ of organization is the right of vouchsafe, but you will be wholly responsible for those under your voucher."

"Of course, you will be handsomely rewarded.  For each of you returning, there will be 2,000 gold talons.  Additionally, the Duke has many areas along the borders that are in need of a strong hand and just spirit to settle and protect.  He would be well disposed to grant some of this land to those who have performed a great boon to the Duchy."  He looks at each of you in turn before continuing, "That is what the Duke requests of you, and what he is willing to reward you with.  Your deeds are not unheard of in these parts, so our confidence is well placed in your abilities.  For those that decline the offer, a small stipend will be paid for your expenses in getting here.  If you have any further questions for me, I will be glad to answer them while Tarvin serves dinner.

"What say you, then?"

The Lord Steward's comments begin to dance around in Semina's head.  'Bands of humanoids joining together, driving force behind them, and seek out information' she contemplates to herself.  Never mind the gold, or land offered for finishing the job, she has no need for it.  'Something heavy is brewing for humanoids to make a coherent army 'she processes once more.    

Eyeing her potential companions, Semina takes the first bite. "I'm in, and I offer to carry one set of the documents." she says.  Satisfied she has made the right decision; Semina sits back and awaits further inquires from other party members.

"I am provisionally in, Lord Steward. I wish to read the documents first. I do not expect problems, but I find that clarity is important." Naren states in a matter-of-fact way.

(OOC: Rather tired at the moment; so nothing elaborate.)

"Well", Heathcliffe beams at the thought of all that gold, "I am happy to oblige!"

Lurking at the edges of the gathering, Kagan-Zur, quietly watched the proceedings. Reconnaissance missions were one his fields of expertise, briefly he wondered how others would fair or even if they would accept, regardless he knew he was in.

Thraim stands up and smooths his beard before saying in a firm voice, "I, Thraim Glorerg, accept Duke Tsovas' generous offer Lord Steward."

Sander considered the Steward's speech gravely. He was worried not off his own safety, but of the path taking up arms again may force him down. The memories of his days in worship of darks beings were still fresh in his mind, the malevolent prayers he had used so often still familiar to him. Would he, in the heat of combat, fall back on such evils?

Finally, after what seemed an eternity to Sander, though likely only a few moments in reality, he looked at the Steward.
"Count me in."

Snorri watches and listens quietly - making note of his prospective companions reactions. He belches loudly, then stands.

"Scouting mission or not, this expedition will need expert fighters. I am such a one. Therefore i accept the commision. I will take my reward as the award of land mentioned. However, i request that this award be made to the Steelskin clan of Smoulder Mountain. Consider me their representative in this matter. It is our hope that much trade can be undertaken between us. Having an enclave would greatly benifit that endevour. If this is agreeable, i too, as a represntative of clan Steelskin will carry one of the letters of marque."

The document reads as follows:

QuoteTo those who read this proclamation, this letter of marque permits those who are good and strong fighters, mighty and knowledgeable wizards, proverbially wise sages and clerics, and masterly thieves to use their abilities in the service of Cynosure to defend goodness and justice, as set forth by these words of the his highness, High Lord Tsovas Kerthain, Duke of Cynosure, Lord of the Silver March, Plar of Dmitri, and Protector of the South, and transferred by his humble spokesman, Lord Caernist, Steward of Cynosure, Defender of the Honour.

The land of Cynosure has been placed in dire danger that exceeds the abilities of ordinary levies and mercenary troops to contain.  Foul witcheries and great malign forces have conspired to destroy this noble state. It is therefore my wish and thus my will that all such goodly men and women of all races stand with Cynosure and aid in repelling this great danger.  Those who choose to come to the aid of this land in its time of need shall be rewarded with ownership of land, such that they can tame and settle, a reward from the coffers of Cynosure, and the treasure of the creatures they defeat, without tax or surcharge by the Duke.  If the need arise, the bearers of this marque have the right of vouchsafe, with all the responsibilites that entails.   Those who choose to abandon this land in its time of need, or to flee or aid the forces of darkness, will be cursed in the eyes of the kingdom, and held as traitors.  

By my hand, my wish and will, and with the stamp of the signet ring that is the seal of my power.  High Lord Tsovas Kerthain, Duke of Cynosure, Lord of the Silver March, Plar of Dmitri, and Protector of the South.

Slinger thought about the additional gold.  When you are in hiding, you need to have coin.  It greases palms, affords a modicum of comfort while on the lam, and spell components aren't getting any cheaper these days.

"I'd be happy to provide some knowledge and arcane power for the trip," he stated (hoping that a trek in service to this Duke wouldn't get him caught up in old troubles with the other Duke).

Naren hands the documents back with an "Acceptable."

"Very good!', exclaims the Lord Steward.  "With such staunch defenders as these, Cynosure has nothing to worry of!"

He rolls out a map that is more detailed than the travel maps provided to you and describes the best route to your destination.

"From Ardendale, here, you can take the Trade Route overland.  About two days west, it turns north, but there is a lesser trail that continues westward, and heads south," hes says, pointing at various locations.  "As you can see, the Trollspire mountains to the south have a front that stretches close to the area, which is where we think they are recruiting some other humanoids besides the eponymous trolls.  While this range exists outside of our borders, it has always been in our interest to keep an eye on activities there, but we have never been able to get a very accurate accounting of the trolls.  Of course, it doesn't take too many to cause great havoc."

He pauses for a minute, apparently considering the implications, then continues:  "The fens begin here," he says, pointing again, "and quickly turn into the stinking bogs that circle the Haarken swamp, named for the adventurer who tried to build his keep there as claim to the land.  This acts as a natural barrier in our efforts to monitor the foothills and Trollspires." he traces a route marked on the map.  "The road runs along the northern edge, and about three quarters through, there is a small rise with a hollow that our patrols sometimes use.  You should be able to make that camp by nightfall of the third day, from whence you can follow the swamp trails directly in, or continue southwest and circumnavigate the bogs."  The Lord Steward stands up and begins rolling the map.

"Well, now, you all may want to be careful around Haarken swamp.  Rumours call the place haunted."  interjects Tarvin.

"Begging your leave, my good Tarvin," the Lord Steward replies, almost deferentially, "but those are stories the goodwives tell children to keep them from wandering off."

"May as be, Lord Steward, may as be.  I know merchants have planned their travels so as to avoid being in that area before Selune makes her journey into the sky," Tarvin states.  "But they tend to be a superstitious lot as well.  I don't think our heroic band will have any problems." he finishes with a wink.

"As Tarvin says, it would be wise to employ caution around that area.  Haunted or not, there are creatures in there that operate better by the pale light of the moon than we do in bright sunshine." Lord Steward concludes.  "At any rate, that is where the Duke's counsel ends.  Your travel maps have some details across the border; known trails,  easily recognized landmarks and the like.  There may be other paths to take, but I would caution against such.  The swamps are treacherous, and to not take lightly to the inexperienced."

The map rolled and replaced in his personal belongings, Lord Steward motions to the Sergeant by the door, who quickly moves to gather the belongings and take them outside.

"Very well, then, adventurers.  Allow me to extend the appreciation of the Duchy of Cynosure once again, and our hopes that we can welcome you back as heroes, or if not, that we can bear the honour of your final resting place.  I would advise you all to sup early, and get your rest tonight." he tells you, pulling on gloves and cloak, "I will be awaiting you at the edge of town at first light.  My men and I can see you as far as the northern road to Kilvarn, where we must part company, as we have other business to attend."

Dressed for riding, the Steward turns to leave.  "We ride swiftly, but not enough to exhaust your horses.  Time is of the essence, but it will do no one any good if your horses cannot carry you back from your reconnaissance.  Your maps are marked with patrol camps along the way, but if you use them, keep the letters of marque at hand.  We do still have active patrols, and they regularly have to roust travellers."  You hear the sounds of his horse snorting outside the door, and stamping its feet.

"My charger grows restless, so I bid you good afternoon.  I will see you at the West Gate tomorrow at first light, and may the gods watch over you!".  The door closes behind the Lord Steward, and you hear him climb into the saddle and ride off towards the barracks.

"Gods watch, Lord Steward!" calls Tarvin after him, then turns to your group.  "I would imagine you will be wanting supper, then?  The Lord Steward has imposed a curfew, so none of the locals will be interrupting your last night here."

"Supper would be nice just about now Tarvin, thank you," Thraim said as he lighted his chertwood cigar with a piece of tinder from the common room's fire.

Thraim took a few puffs to get the cherry just right, and then addresses the group, "well, I think that we should take this opportunity of a quiet supper to introduce ourselves and let each other know his or her specialties."

Thraim stepped onto the fireplace stones to stand a little taller and look at everyone's face.

"I'll start.  My name is Thraim Glorerg.  I am a skilled scout, soldier, trapsmith, and locksmith.  My sword," Thraim says as he grips the pommel of the longsword on his hip, "and my crossbow will serve us well."

"A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Thraim," Slinger spoke and offered his hand.
He looked around the room at those gathered and continued, "I am known as Slinger.  As you can see by my frail frame, I offer little in the way of muscle for this trek, however, I am practiced in the magical arts and believe that my contributions will be well received."

Kagan-Zur, nods to Tavin's suggestion of supper and takes his usual corner seat with his back to the wall.

Heathcliffe rubs his hands together and makes a mischievous grin at the moment of supper and walks back to the tavern to partake in the eating.

Thraim shook Slinger's hand firmly, but not enough to hurt the half-elf.  

"I have no doubt that your contribution will be appreciated.  I've had my bacon saved on more than one occasion by a practitioner of the arcane arts," Thraim said in a friendly tone, "I glad to make your acquaintance as well."

Thraim watched the half-orc and halfling take more interest in eating dinner rather than discussing how the group would operate, and made a mental note of it.

"Unless anyone has an objection, then I'll carry the third set of papers from the Duke," Thraim said to the group.

The thought of dinner made Semina's mouth salivate like no other.  She was so wrapped up in the days events, she barely ate breakfast.  Her constant training is always making her hungry even though her order has strict rules on food proportions.  "Dinner sounds great Tarvin, will there be any meat tonight?" she asks.   If there is, she will take more then her fill this time in preparation of the journey.   This is one of her many behaviors the Order of Iskgard were always willing to overlook.

Semina now looks towards Thraim and the rest of the group.  "My name is Semina, and I am but a simple monk of the Order of Iskgard" she says.  "I am here to offer my fighting skills, amongst other things, and hope you find me worthy of your company."

Thraim turns towards Semina and says, "a pleasure to meet you as well, Mistress Semina.  I sincerely hope that you find my company worthy as well."

"Naren. I cast arcane spells, focusing on tactics. Although not trained in them, I have a knack for nasty tricks." He pauses. "I prefer to use things other than spells to accomplish a task. Spells are limited in number. Flaming oil and caltrops are cheap."

Sander regarded the group, then spoke.
"Sander Lightwalker. I am an experienced cleric, as some of you may already know. Fear not though," he brushed his cloak aside to reveal plate armor and a mace hanging at his side, "I can take care of myself."

Well, it seems to be a well-rounded group thus far.  I certainly like the way Naren thinks, and it sounds like he's seen some action.  Good, I don't like working with greenhorn wizards, Thraim thought to himself as he puffed on his cigar.  

"You're right about oil and caltrops.  I use a few nasty tricks myself, and as I said I work with traps as well.  I'm pleased to meet you," Thraim says to Naren.

Turning to Sander, Thraim nods in acknowledgment of his gesture and says, "and you well Sander.  It's good to know that we have an experienced priest and healer with us."

Squinting her eyes, and giving a devilish disapproving grin, Semina reacts to Thraim and Naren "I hope your nasty little tricks come in handy when we are in real need of them, otherwise I think it best to behave as the Duke of Cynosure has requested" she smiles.  

Still waiting for dinner, and others to join in the conversation, Semina asks "Have all of you acquired steeds?" pausing "If not I noticed some horses for sell near the stables."

"I'm quite sure the Duke of Cynosure doesn't care how we might happen to kill monsters invading his lands." Naren says dryly.

Thraim chuckles at Semina's remark and says to her, "oh, don't worry about that.  Yes, I have a riding horse and pack horse in the stables."

Looking in Naren's direction once again, Semina remembers quite clearly why things turned sour between them.  "You're right Naren, I am sure the Duke doesn't care what monsters we obliterate. Except, I was under the impression we weren't a strike force."  she said coldly.

Now turning from away from Naren, so her face didn't give way to the hurt she felt, Semina decided to look for Tavin, and get dinner over with.  There will be plenty of time to get acquainted with the others during their journey.

Naren was once again left with the feeling of not quite connecting with another's viewpoint...Or, more specifically, one other person's viewpoint.

It was...Quite uncomfortable.

Why would someone care if monsters died?

(OOC: Borderline sociopathy alert, or typical adventurer?)

Kagan-Zur watches and listens as the others confer.

Figuring it time to speak up, he says. "I've served most of my life as scout and spy in the service of the great lady Morrigan." And he draws out a silver holy symbol from under his tunic, on it is depicted two crossed spears.

"The girl has the right of it," he says. "Our primary mission is observation and the gathering of information. There well might the call for engagements, but we should do so with discretion, engaging only when necessary or when it is to our advantage to do so, to act otherwise would be counter productive to our mission, not to mention disobeying our orders."

Snorri snorts at all the self-effacing talk from his new companions.

"I'm Snorri Steelskin and i bust heads. You'll be glad of my company before the end, i assure you."

He gives the cleric a sly glance, "and don't be shy of your appreciation."

He then raises his mug, "A toast! A toast to our companions and our commission!" Not waiting for anyone else, Snorri necks the tankard of ale in one, then belches appreciatively before looking dolefully at his now empty mug.

"Anyone else?" he asks innocently.

"I can surely attest to Sander's abilities as a healer," Slinger said as he nodded towards his old acquaintance.  
He continued, "He patched me up once when I had run afoul of some, ahem, 'ruffians' north of here.  I've never seen him swing his mace, but I feel much better knowing he'll be with us in this task."  
He paused for a bit while he retrieved his snuff box, "I sold the poor steed that helped me flee from those thugs when I was in need of some spell components, but I will make sure I have transportation before we set forth."

Dinner consists of coney stew and hard bread, roast beef and fried potatoes, and salted pork with beet soup.  Tarvin serves each of you as much as you wish, listening to your stories with a keen interest.

The ale and wine soothe the remnants of the long journey here, providing the means for a night of good sleep, ere the road before you opens to adventure once again.

"Eat, my friends, and drink your fill," Tarvin announces from behind the bar.  "This is your last night in our village for the time being, and we want you to take good memories away with you!"

He leaves you to your business, occasionally bringing another plate of food, or filling a tankard with drink.

Semina finishes gorging herself on roast beef and fried potatoes.  She feels she will burst if one more morsel in placed in her mouth. As she senses the guilt creeping upon her from her over-indulgence, she partakes of one last drink and begins to stand.  "I bid you a good night, my lords" she utters "I will greet you again at first light."

Excusing herself and walking towards the stairs, Semina takes one last glance at her fellow companions. 'I should find a moment tomorrow to apologize to Naren for my cold demeanor' she ponders to herself, and heads to bed.

Naren, meanwhile, spent about a half hour thinking about the short 'conversation', sorting through viewpoints.

It wasn't something he was particularly good at, but it did help him sleep.

Heathcliffe, having finished gorging himself on foodstuffs, reclaims his most comfortable bed on the stable loft.

Sander had picked at his food through dinner, preoccupied by thoughts of their impending mission. He rises from his seat and, with a wave to Slinger, ascends the stairs towards his room.

The evening passes into night, then perhaps too soon, you hear the knocking at your door to remind you to get up and start getting ready.  Years of adventuring means that bags are already packed, so putting a few items back takes minutes, and strapping on armour and weapons only a few more.  Through the windows, you see the sky brightening, and see villagers moving around the streets with lanterns, and some lights out in the fields where the farmers are starting their day as well.

Strong coffee and thick slabs of bacon help brush the last cobwebs of sleep from your heads, and soon the sound of clattering dishes is heard from the kitchen while you tighten straps and adjust belts as you walk out the door into the breaking dawn.  Streaks of purple and orange clouds (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v237/StormBringer757/Pics/sunrise.jpg) greet you as the sun begins its slow climb above the distant mountains.

The Lord Steward raises his hand in salute from the back of his horse as you file out the front door and find your mounts and pack animals waiting for you.  "Hail, worthy adventurers, today you embark to perform a great service for the Duchy of Cynosure.  I will accompany your party to the Northern Trade Road, and by the exhortations of our priests, may the gods accompany you to your journey's end and watch over you."  His voice is strong, and those in the street pause in their activities and bow their heads like the Steward's retinue.

He wheels his horse around, and forming up with the Captain to his left (http://www.goldcoastfestivals.com/images/oren/knight%20in%20armor.jpg), and the Sergeant on his right, the six other soldiers (http://www.candgnews.com/Homepage-Articles/2007/8-22-07/images/TL-RenFest3.jpg) move to positions around your group, and a few lean in to advise you that the group normally leaves the village at a full gallop, but with the ponies and such, will only ride at half gallop.  They nod to the front of the line to draw your attention to the Lord Steward, his sword flashing in the growing light:

"Prepare to meet your fate: may the gods look kindly upon you if you fall defending your Duke, and cast you into the darkness if you desert his cause!"  His speech rings out as he spurs his mount ahead, nearly drowned by the shouts of his men, "For the Duke!  For Cynosure!" as they expertly manoeuvre through the large street leading out of town, keeping their positions around you and shouting to keep themselves arrayed and in formation with the Lord Steward ahead.

After about a mile, the Lord Steward calls out to slow the group to a normal walk.   He falls back a bit to the head of your group and explains with a wink "That is usually a good warmup for the horses, and the villagers seem to enjoy it".  He chuckles and rides up to his place at the front of the troupe again, calling back, "We should reach the trade road about mid-day, where we will take our meal at the patrol camp there."

The light woods are beginning to thicken (http://travel.webshots.com/photo/1102522345045983124EYCcpz), while the bright morning light begins to turn greenish, filtered through the leaves of the increasingly taller trees.  Through the few breaks before the trees become too dense, you see the Trollspire mountains loom in the distance, following your path to the south.  Soon, the trees close in on the trail, branches that merely overhang the path become entangled overhead and it seems as though you are in a living tunnel (http://lh5.ggpht.com/_WDut9vsNrog/RU01jcPCABI/AAAAAAAAAS0/yTkStzVbeDY/CIMG6656.JPG) suffused with verdant light.  Every noise seems absorbed by the woods, only the sounds of leaves moved by the wind high above you filter down to your ears.

Thraim squints as he walks outside into the morning light.  Feeling invigorated by the strong coffee, he stamps his feet to get his boots on just right.  After he mounts his horse, Thraim listens to the Lord Steward's bombastic speech, and chuckles inside.  

You have love those enthusiastic military officers, Thraim thinks to himself wryly.

Thraim deftly kicks his horse into a gallop and falls into line as the patrol moves out of the village.

Heathcliffe, in good spirits and not wanting to damper his mood, hitches a horseback ride with one of his compatriots, milking this generous treatment for what it's worth.

Semina was already awake when they came knocking on her door early this morning.  She had her bags, and weapons at her side, and was just finishing up her morning meditations.  She ate a minimal breakfast, and quickly walked out to give Icerick a once over.

"Remember what I said you stubborn steed," she coaxes him "any sign of trouble, you keep a safe distance if I have to dismount."  She mounts the well tempered warhorse, and positions herself near the Lord Steward.

Now riding side by side with one of the soldiers, Semina glances towards her right to look at the Trollspire mountain. Kind of a gloomy area for the great land she heard about, 'or maybe the name inspires unkind thoughts' she thinks to herself.  

Headed into the woods, Semina over hears the Lords comments about arriving at the trade road. 'Good timing for the horse to catch their breath' she figures, 'maybe I can talk to Naren then.'

Naren is up each day at the exact same time. After an hour spent with his spellbook, followed by breakfast and a fast gallop, a sudden thought hits him. "At some point, we really should come to a coherent plan" he says out loud.

Although not a horseman, Naren has ridden plenty of times and can stay in the saddle.

Slinger handed the horse trader his gold and thanked the man.
He patted the steed's thick rust colored neck and the horse stepped away slightly.
Slinger smiled as he thought about the fact that he was never good with animals.  Surely he could figure out how to bond with this animal.  Truth be told, the speed of a riding horse had gotten him out of many a jam when his powers were exhausted.  
He flipped a leg over the mount and clicked his tongue.
"Let's go Fireball," he said under his breath, hoping that his "clever" name for his horse didn't prove all that true, lest he be thrown by a temperamental horse at an inopportune moment.
He was careful not to ride to close to the company men, lest one of them recognize him as a wanted man.  Surely at this point there was a bounty on him placed by the Duke.  
He rode on, hoping for an uneventful trip.....

Once in the woods Kagan-Zur moves to the front of the pack. His hood down he vigilantly scans, listens, even smells for signs of trouble as they make their way.

Sander, like Slinger, did not have a horse of his own, and bought one just before the group set out. He rode is silence, his attention directed at his companions ahead of him.

Travelling through the woods proves uneventful, a few crashes off in the distance as deer are startled, a flock of birds takes flight at your approach.  The soldiers remain alert, but don't seem particularly worried.

Through the canopy, the sun continues to climb higher.  As it approaches directly overhead, a bright opening is visible ahead of you.  Riding on, you come upon a rather sudden clearing around the trail, which branches northward on the far side of the clearing.  Off to your left as you enter the open area are obvious signs of use.  Several fire rings, each with logs or log ends for sitting, a few smaller billets lashed between some trees, and bare patches in the otherwise lush swath of grass.

One soldier rides to both of the other paths, looking intently down the trail, while three others do a quick turn around the clearing, making sure there are no ambushes waiting for them.  The Lord Steward and his staff wait in the middle of the clearing, hands on hilts, until the soldiers give the all clear signal  Trotting over to the makeshift post, the men dismount and tie off their horses before stretching out and digging in packs and saddlebags for rations.  Two of them get hand axes from their gear and go into the near woods looking for some fresh wood, and shortly have three fires started up for cooking.

"My friends, this is where we will part," explains the Steward.  "You will continue down the easterly road for the remainder of today, and the following two days.  I would be wary after the sun rises a second time on your journey.  Our patrols are necessarily limited that far from our settlements, but until recently, they have had no need for greater attention."

He half-turns to his men, who are exchanging rough humour and conversation, one of them signalling that the food is ready.  He flourishes an arm towards the fires, grinning broadly.

"That is a worry for another day, however.  Let us sit and take our meal before parting ways, each of us to our dark ends."  At which he strides over to his men, accepting a plate and a cup of drink, raising it in toast to everyone at the gathering.

Thraim dismounts deftly, and then stretches with much noise.  He runs his fingers through is beard unconsciously, grooming it.

Each of us to our dark ends?  My, my that's a little black, isn't it? Thraim thinks to himself as he chuckles softly.

Thraim quickly jerks the leather tie holding his wooden mug to his belt, and rushes over to get some drink in it for the toast.

Heathcliffe pouts as he is helped off of one of the steward escort's horses but quickly reclaims his cheerful spirit. At least, he has never had to spent money on boots and if he whines just right, maybe one of his more permanent companions might acquiesce to burdening their own mount. Nevertheless, Heathcliffe notes not to be too spoiled - druidic strictures, fortune, and all.

Semina cautiously dismounts Icerick. She investigates the clearing for a moment and tries listens.  Unfortunately the soldiers are making to much noise to hear anything useful. She point to the lush grass patches, and directs Icerick towards them, "stay on alert my friend" she whispers "this place is a little to open for my liking."

Grabbing her water skin, Semina walks towards the gathering where the Lord Steward is giving a toast.  She  overheard the comments about how the soldiers were departing, to keep heading easterly, and to be wary of the second sun rise. 'Wary of the second sunrise'  she grinds her teeth thinking, 'my guard has been on edge since the forest entry.'

Naren dismounts, feeds, waters and walks his horse and then finds somewhere to do some stretches before laying down.

(OOC: Having trouble getting into character)

Snorri gathers with the others, eager for a touch of ale to moisten his parched throat. Riding was the second worse thing that he could think of and he had days more of it to look forward to. Better than swimming, though.

"What perils can we expect on the road eastwards, friend?" he asks the steward. "Orcs, bandits, devilry? I can withstand the first two easily enough, but devilry must needs be tackled by our learned magic users."

(OOC: Naren isn't very learned when it comes to social stuff, but he does have a good Wisdom and Charisma, so there's only so long he can be oblivious, even given his upbringing)

A few minutes later, a thought hit Naren. That happened regularly; although no genius, he was intelligent. On the other hand, thoughts on social situations were a bit scarcer on the ground. It was a conclusion to the deep thought he had previously attempted on the subject matter. After a bit of consideration, he decided to approach the matter directly.

He stood up, walked over to Semina and said, directly and honestly, "After consideration, I believe I may have been hasty and unwarranted in my angry reply."

(OOC: Lawful Neutral. No mercy for himself, either. Also, if it were anybody else, he'd be pointing out that his reply 'wasn't without precedent in the conversation'.

Naren is an interesting character. I'm firmly LG, but in some ways, CN is easier to play)

Kagan-Zur quietly watches the proceedings, they soon be on the hunt, and the thought of it brings a smile to face.

"Heathcliffe, would you like a ride? I'm sure this horse can hold both of us." Sander extended a hand towards his companion to help him up.

Heathcliffe gives Sander a hearty grin as he accepts the man's hand, "Yes. I would very much like one."

The mid-day meal of trail rations passes without interruption, but at least they are hot trail rations.  The Steward's men are congenial, several of them veterans in the army, the rest relatively new to service.  A few short anecdotes about this battle or that skirmish around mouthfuls of food or drink.  Soon, the Steward rises as his men start cleaning up the camp and preparing to leave.  After equipment is stowed and the horses untied, the Steward is presented with a small chalice, which he raises in toast.

"Those who are gathered under the banner of Cynosure, the gods smile upon you.  They, at least, will see your efforts and reward them, even if those efforts prevent you from returning to the Duke's hearth!"  He raises the cup to all gathered, draining it in one swallow and closes his eyes for a moment.  Just as suddenly, his reverie is broken, as he hands he small flagon to his Captain, claps his hands and rubs them together with a smile.  "I almost envy you, adventurers.  At times, the open road is a temptation." he proclaims in a heavy voice.  "But I have my calling, and I could not ask better men to serve with."  He mounts his horse, saluting your party.  "May the gods watch over you, friends, and provide you opportunity to help they Duchy!"  At that, he turns his horse and spurs it towards the opening to the Northern road, followed by his men.  They speed town the path, and are quickly lost to sight through the thick trees and undergrowth.  Their hooves are heard for a few minutes, then the forest falls back into its pattern of birdcalls and animals screeching over territory incursions.

The noon sun has warmed the clearing, and judging by the noise of the cicadas down the Merchant Road, the forest has warmed as well.  You feel the humid warmth almost as a wall when you begin down the trail.  An hour down the trail, the powerful combination of a full meal and the still heat conspire to drag you out of your saddles.

You are all brought back to full wakefulness a few hours after the clearing.  It seems about halfway between noon and evening when the muffled noises ahead catch your ears.  Echoes and still air make it hard to tell distance, but it seems around a slight bend ahead of you come the sounds of arguing, which escalates, followed by a shout, several moments of silence, then a pained scream.  Several more minutes of silence are interrupted by further arguing, although one voice seems to be directing the discussion now.  Although the woods are distorting the sounds, you would say no less than three and no more than five are involved.

Your best guess would be no more than two dozen yards beyond the bend.

Thraim dismounts slowly and quietly.  He walks up to Semina's horse and says quietly to all that can hear it, "I think that I should scout this out first.  Be at the ready for my signal, and come riding hard if you hear it."

Thraim winks at Semina with a smile, and pats her horse.  He then walks up to the front to speak with Kagan-Zur.  He approaches Kagan-Zur's horse quietly and cautiously, so as not to spook either the horse or Kagan-Zur.

"I'll take the left, you take the right?" Thraim whispers in a throaty voice to Kagan-Zur.

Without waiting for a response, Thraim starts moving off towards the left through the forest.  He carefully picked his footfalls as he moved away from the group.  The last thing they could hear from Thraim was the slightly audible 'click' of his crossbow being cocked and loaded as he disappeared into the brush.  

[OOC: Thraim is going to move up quietly, hide, listen, and observe.
Move Silently = 07%, Hide in Shadows = 84%, and Hear Noise = 86% (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1815038/).]

"I'll cover the other flank" Kagan-Zur whispers hoarsely at Thraim.
Kagan-Zur turns invisible then moves quietly and carefully through the woods trying to come on the other side of arguing from Tharim.
Move Silent 1d100 → [55] = (55)
Listen 1d100 → [25] = (25)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1815045/

Quote from: Drohem;267391[OOC: Thraim is going to move up quietly, hide, listen, and observe.
Move Silently = 07%, Hide in Shadows = 84%, and Hear Noise = 86% (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1815038/).]

Quote from: GrayPumpkin;267397Move Silent 1d100 → [55] = (55)
Listen 1d100 → [25] = (25)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1815045/

OOC: The woods are pretty thick with trees and undergrowth.  You both guess that more than about ten yards off the trail, and you won't be able to see anything.  Missile fire will be difficult further than five yards off the trail.

As Naren's horse is not a warhorse, and knowing the poor reactions normal horses have to battle, he gets down and ties her to a branch. (If AD&D riding horses somehow do not have this real-world problem, skip this. :) )

After that, he goes over his spells in his mind, examining, but not touching the stored energy and making sure that it is ready, should he need it.

If there is time after these preperations, he'll take out one of the oil flasks, put a rolled strip of cloth tight in the opening and light a candle. He will hold them ready to light the cloth and throw the flask.

From atop of Sander's horse, Heathcliffe looks inquisitively as Thraim and Kagan move stealthily ahead, curiously as to what they will find.

The loud noise startles Semina for a moment, and the whole party comes to a stand still.  Thraim walks quietly over to her, and advises her of his plan to scout ahead with Kagan, and see what all the commotion is ahead.  

Listening to his request to stay back until needed, Semina calms Icerick down, and prepares him for battle.  "They will need a quite cover my dear one," she whispers. "Once they howl, I will need your strength to charge the enemy."

She glances around Icerick to make sure everything is secure, and positions her axe and daggers for drawing, not deciding which she will use if an encounter begins.  Looking over at Naren as he decides to tie down his horse, she smile at the thought of battling beside him once more.

Thraim returns to the waiting group from the forest, and motions to everyone to gather close to him.  He wishes to speak with everyone, but in hushed tones.  

Once everyone gathers fairly close, either by dismounting or remaining mounted, Thraim says to everyone, "there's a group of brigands about twenty to thirty yards up trail.  There are at least six men, most wearing leather armor, and they're armed with missile weapons.  They're arguing about a death among their ranks, and who gets first pick at looting the dead man's gear.  They should be wrapping up in about five to ten minutes, and then they are moving again.  I heard one say that they are supposed to be meeting up with the 'piggy leader and taking him back to the Boss'.  Who or what is the 'piggy leader' and the 'Boss,' I don't know?"

Pausing for a moment only, Thraim speaks again, "I recommend that we hide off trail, wait, and then follow this group to this meeting.  We'll see where this leads us?"

"Possibly an orc chieftain. Some orcs have a distinctly piggish look." Naren says quietly. "That plan sounds logical."

Should Thraims' plan be accepted, Naren will keep flask and candle in hand, but hide off the trail at the back of the group - The thick underbrush (5 to 10 feet visibility) will easily hide the candlelight in broad daylight.

Kagan-Zur appears again once the group is together. He nods in agreement at Tharim's words. "It seemed to be a squabble between two of the brigands, not uncommon amongst rabble like this." he says, then adds. "It's a good plan dwarf."
He nods again at Naren's words. "I agree it seems they're taking one of the orc leaders to their leader for some kind of meet, I'd guess."
"Come" he says to the group. "We'll show you the good places to hide."

Semina watches Thraim approach the group in a quiet manner.  She can tell by his body language that he needs to speak to everyone, so she quietly dismounts Icerick.  

She listens to Thraim and Naren discuss options and agrees with the plan.  Semina now looks over to Kagan as he talks about a hiding place they found.  "What of the horses?" she whispers.  "Will there be enough room for hiding them, and will we be following by foot, or will they be too loud to take?"

Thraim nods gravely at Semina's excellent questions, and says, "we should be able to hide the horses in this forest with us.  I think that if we're careful, we can still probably follow them by horseback for a while yet."

Kagan-Zur stares into the forest, looking deep in thought.
"He's right," says the hoarse voiced half-orc, eyes still scanning the woods. "But with all that foliage and under growth we'll need take extra care not be heard and give them a decent headway."
"Also if they are smart, they may well have a rear-guard scouting behind them." he says, turning to the group. A brief uncertain smirk crosses his porcine lips as he shrugs slightly. "They didn't strike as being all that trained, but best not to underestimate them, and keep our eyes peeled. Is there a tracker amongst us?"

"I'm no good at sneaking. If we're to follow them, it would seem like sense for the most skilled forester to follow at a close distance and keep the rest of us from giving away the plan."

Heathcliffe pouts, "I would prefer not to waste time trailing the bandits but, for the sake of decisiveness, I will side with the majority so we do not dawdle here for long."

Doesn't want to waste time trailing bandits?  What does he think that we were hired to do?  Thraim thinks to himself in amusement as he looks at the strangle halfling.

Addressing the group, Thraim says, "well, I'm no ranger, but I should be able to follow this lot's trail.  Snorri's right, the main group should hang way back while Kagan-Zur and myself trail them ahead of you.  Are we all in agreement on the plan then?"

Kagan-Zur nods in approval.

As you finalize your plans, you hear a shout from much closer than you expected, apparently a few yards past the bend through the copse of trees in front of you.

"You two louts!  You aren't getting paid to sit in the woods and look at the trees!  Were you thinking the Western Road was going to watch itself?  Get over there and stay out of sight while we clean up this mess!  The General is expecting us in less than an hour, and we don't need interlopers stumbling over us!" you hear in alternate tones, indicating the speaker is turning back and forth to yell.

"Ey!  Take it easy, Colin, we have the new patrol routes, they aren't due this way until close to dinner!" comes a voice through the woods directly in front of you, from the direction Thraim recently emerged.

From the other direction, you hear a rejoinder, "Jerrik's right, no patrols, no travellers...  pickin's are slim this close to Festival.  We'll watch behind, don't you worry about that."

"You shut your mouth until you are in charge!  I said get over there and watch the road, and I meant get over there and watch the road!" bellows Colin.

"Fine, fine!  We'll watch your damned road!" Jerrik replies, with irritation in his voice.

(The conversation takes about ten minutes, you guesstimate it will take Jerrik less than five minutes to get to a point where he can see you.  The other man on the southern side, where Kagan was, might take a few minutes more, depending on where he decides to set up.  You can act at any point during the dialogue.)

Semina listens to Thraim and Kagan plans once more.  Then her attention is caught off guard by the loud voices ahead of her.  "They are much closer then before" she looks to everyone, "either we advance to hiding, or we make a stance now."

Semina then grabs the Icerick's reigns with one hand and her hand axe in the other.  "So, what are the plans again?" she says with a hurried look.  She readies herself to mount Icerick.

"I say we hide for now, wait til' the others are out of earshot. We need them fellows unawares if are to follow and learn what they are up to" says Kagan-Zur in a hoarse whisper. "Once they are gone we can deal with these quickly and quietly."

Heathcliffe, unnerved at the encroaching proximity of the bandits, quickly remarks, "I say dispatch this lot now and then scout out for the bandit hideout while there is respectable distance between our companies, but do what you will. I was just simply hoping for a quick retreat or a hasty ambush so not to give the knaves immediate intelligence of our presence and/or arrival."

Sander quietly pulled his mace from his side and readied it.
"Whatever we do," he began in a hushed, yet unmistakenly urgent tone, "we must decide now, and stick with it. I say we fight, it's unlikely we'll be able to hide a group this big, mounts and all, successfully in a matter of minutes."

Semina nods at Sander, and brings her horse quietly around for mounting.  "The cleric is right, we can't hide everything so quickly," she whispers impatiently.  "Every moment we waste, we lose our element of surprise."

Thraim motions for everyone to move their horse off the trail.  He then grabs the reins of his horse and moves it back up the trail about ten feet, and then moves off the trail a bit.  He ties off his horse, and returns to the trail.  Thraim readies his crossbow, takes a knee, and aims in the general direction of where he thinks Jerrik will appear.

"Very well, let's not tarry long with the rabble then." Heathcliffe says as he hops off of Sander's horse. He then pulls out his sling with grim disposition and looks nervously at the wood, waiting for a clear shot at whatever hapless brigand decides to leave the protective bush first.

Deciding there isn't time to mount the horse, and that it would cause more trouble then its worth, Semina grabs Icerick's reigns and high tails up to the same place Thraim ties his horse up.  She pulls Icerick as close as possible to the tree line, "Don't come any closer" she states quietly to the horse. "I will whistle when it is safe for you to return."  

Semina readies her hand axe, and looks towards Thraim, to signal him for a moment.  She nods her head towards the trees and advance into the thicker portions. She disappears into the forest and will try to come about to surprise any others that may appear when hopefully the first two fall.

(OOC: I will Move Silently, Hide in Shadow and get behind them.  Dice roll 1d100 → [50] = (50)http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1818913/ 2nd Dice roll 1d100 → [16] = (16) http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1818932/ )

(Whoops, missed the second page. Seems I'm asleep while everyone else is awake. I thought we were already in the trees?)

In any case, Naren will stay back, but close enough to hurl burning oil.

As Semina glides silently into the trees, you hear the approaching sounds of Jerrik, walking carefully, but not particularly quietly.  A few seconds later, you hear a muffled snap.  From ahead, in the trees, you hear Jerrik call out, "Oy! Oy!" and two sharp cracks.  In a lower voice, you can just make out ".... possum!  Scoot, ... a fine stew! Oy!"  and another sharp crack.

Judging by the noise, he should be about seven or eight yards into the trees.  You can just make out a figure, but he isn't moving, staring off to the left in Semina's general direction.

Thraim waits patiently for a clearer shot at the figure.  He steadies his breathing and slides his index finger over the trigger of his crossbow.

Jerrik waits a minute or so, then slowly starts moving to your left.

"Here, little possum, you sit still while old Jerrik comes over to get you"  His direction is taking him slightly away from the road, but there are a few clearer spots where you might be able to get a shot off.  Your best guess is that he is somewhere in the area around where Semina was going.

Quote from: Narf the Mouse;267423After that, he goes over his spells in his mind, examining, but not touching the stored energy and making sure that it is ready, should he need it.

(Which spell are you readying to cast, if any?)

(Not readying to cast a spell; just doing a quick inventory)

Semina stands quietly still, with her axe firmly gripped in her right hand.  There is a descent sized oak she blends in with, and listens as the oaf walks loudly through the woods, calling for his dinner.  

She estimates Jerrik to be about 10 ft. or so off to her left.  Semina peeks around the oak she is hiding behind and notices his back is to her.  Bringing the hand axe up, she attacks this poor creature from behind.

'Breathe slowly,' she calms herself. 'Steady the hand, focus for sound and watch for movement,' she processes once more.

(OOC:
for surprise (1d6=6) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1821888/)
1d20=16 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1821881/)
For Damage, +3 hand axe, +2 monk levels. (1d6+5=11) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1821890/))

A few shadows between the trees indicate Jerrik is moving, but slowly, as though looking for something.  Quite suddenly, you see a flash of steel, a muffled groan, then silence.

Semina rapidly approaches Jerrik, with her axe in the air.  Sensing his awareness of her, she buries it in between his neck and shoulder. She watches the blood spray, and his collapse to the ground.  She quickly recovers herself, and kneels to snap what is left of his neck.

Semina picks up the dead body and hides it under the nearest brush as quietly as possible. 'May the gods you worshiped welcome you with open arms,' she contemplates to herself.  She will have to mourn later, for there is another scout somewhere near by.  Semina conceals herself by the oak once more.

Heathcliffe whispers upon hearing the muffled sound, sling still readied, "What do you suppose that was? I hope the sister's alright."

Thraim stands up and moves forward fifteen feet, and kneels again.  He aims his crossbow in the general direction of where he thinks that the other man will show up on the road.

Quote from: Drohem;268829Thraim stands up and moves forward fifteen feet, and kneels again.  He aims his crossbow in the general direction of where he thinks that the other man will show up on the road.

(Roll for surprise)

[OOC: Thraim's surprise roll was a 4 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1822374/)]

(Surprise roll for bandit scout (1d6=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1822598/)
1d6 → [2] = (2)

You are surprised for two segments, so the bandit gets two attack sequences with his short bow.
Attack rolls for bandit (1d20=16, 1d20=8, 1d20=19, 1d20=7) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1822608/)
1d20 → [16] = (16)
1d20 → [8] = (8)
1d20 → [19] = (19)
1d20 → [7] = (7)

One hit
Damage roll for bandit (1d6=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1822610/)
1d6 → [2] = (2) )

Thraim sets up to watch the woods, when a volley of arrows sings out from behind the brush, catching you unawares.  The first shot whistles past your ear, with the second going wide.  The third shot finds its mark in your kneeling leg, embedding itself in your thigh.  The fourth shot is wild again.  He seems to be shooting rather hastily, but you can make out his form well enough to take a shot.  He has some cover, so it won't be target practice, but it won't be shooting in the dark, either.

(You can return fire, at -1 to hit.  You get your two attacks from the Crossbow of Speed now, then everyone rolls initiative)

Thraim grunts as the arrow tore through his flesh, but keeps his breathing steady.  He turns and quickly fires a bolt at the assailant, but misses with the shot.  The motion to reload was rote now for Thraim, and before he even realized it, he was firing his second bolt at the bowman.  The bolt struck true and hit its target.

[OOC- two crossbow attacks (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1823008/) and damage roll (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1823017/) (6 pts)]

"I suspect that was Semina. Killing someone, to be precise."

(OOC: Missed the next page again. Insert that before Thraim acted, please.)

The scout lets out a choked cry as the bolt skewers him through the left side of his abdomen, and stumbles back a few steps.  He keeps his bow to hand, leaning against a tree, and takes in a deep breath.

"Colin!  Enemies on the east!  Attackers! Enemies to the rear!"

He draws another arrow from his quiver and prepares to shoot again.

(Initiative for everyone who wants to participate, we will take care of attack rolls later)

(What's initiative at?)

(Initiative rules are in OOC now)

Semina finishes wiping the blood off her hand axe, and prepares to sneak towards the other scout. 'I wonder where the other is hiding,' she concentrates.

Her head jerks up at the sound of fear bellowing from the right side of the road. 'Enemies, and attackers! Looks like we've been noticed,' she sighs.  'Better sneak up closer to the road, and take a look at reinforcements.'

(OCC:  I will watch those who approach, and roll my initiative, when I can attack.)

Thraim pulls the leather thong attached to his crossbow taught, and then swings the crossbow around to his back as he stands up and starts running.  Thraim runs towards the bowman, drawing his longsword from its scabbard on his waist.

(OOC- Thraim's Initiative roll is a 2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1823636/))

The bandit has drawn a short sword, and is preparing his defence.

(Initiative for bandit (1d10=4) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1823797/)  
1d10 → [4] = (4)
Thraim gets to go first)

 

Quote from: DeadUematsu;26900518 Dex, +3 reaction adjustment, attacking with sling stone (RoF 1).
(1d10-3=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1823418/)
1d10-3 → [6,-3] = (3)

(The current order is:
Thraim
Heathcliff
Bandit)

(OOC- you can insert this attack at the appropriate moment)

Thraim approaches the wounded man cautiously with his last few steps.  He bobs his head back and forth for a moment and launches into a vicious series of sword attacks, but was not able to land a telling blow in the exchange.

(OOC- Thraim's attack roll (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1824685/)- he missed)

(If you click on the line that says BBCode, it will flash yellow, and you can post that in the thread.

Thraim's longsword attack. (1d20=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1824685/)

Don't make me go over to the website to look up every roll you make, man.  :)  )

(Unless you're using Firefox 3, in which case you have to copy-paste)

Heathcliffe sends a sling stone hurtling at the now visible bandit.

Sling attack roll (1d20+5=13) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1824842/) and Sling damage roll (1d4+6=10) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1824845/) if it hits.

Quote from: Narf the Mouse;269343(Unless you're using Firefox 3, in which case you have to copy-paste)

(I am using Firefox 3, it might be some kind of extension.)

Quote from: DeadUematsu;269354Heathcliffe sends a sling stone hurtling at the now visible bandit.

Sling attack roll (1d20+5=13) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1824842/) and Sling damage roll (1d4+6=10) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1824845/) if it hits.

(Where are you getting +6 to damage?)

(OOC: Gauntlets of Ogre Strength.)

Quote from: DeadUematsu;269533(OOC: Gauntlets of Ogre Strength.)

(Ok.  Let's have you get your list of magic items together and post it in the original recruiting thread.  You can edit your 'character sheet' there with the list.)

Thraim's opponent clumsily deflects the attacks, clearly struggling to keep up with the unrelenting onslaught.  He seems to nearly drop his short sword to several telling blows, but twists his hand and deftly secures his grasp each time.

With an echoing thump, the sling bullet whistles through the trees and connects with the bowman's side.  Thraim can hear the man's rib crack, as he groans and slumps into the underbrush.

Thraim looks back at Heathcliffe was a cross of amazement and new found appreciation.  However, he quickly snaps his attention forward again, scanning the brush for any more opponents.

There appear to be no more opponents forthcoming.

Thraim looks around for some dense foilage near the fallen bandit, and attempts to hide in order to set up a backstab attempt on anyone coming to check out the body.

(OOC- Thraim's Hide in Shadows roll: (1d100=29) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1826819/))

Thraim moves the fallen bandit a bit deeper into the woods, then ducks behind a thick fern, disappearing into the gloom.

Semina observes that no one is charging to the cries of the other bandit.  She lingers a bit more, and decides the danger is clear for the moment. She travels back the way she came in the thick brush, towards the area she left her companions.

She is not able to hear the others, so she assumes they are possibly hiding and decides to sound off a bird cry to get their attention.  Semina hopes they will comprehend her signal, and will advise them that the road ahead is clear for the moment.  'We need to re-group and continue with the rest of the plan,' she ruminates.  'I hope no one is badly injured.'

Sander watches Thraim move the body, intending to heal his wound, but could only wait has his companion moved further away, as he did not want to give any nearby hostiles their position.

Naren looks around and listens (What, if anything, do I roll?)

Heathcliffe quickly replaces his sling with his dagger and scimitar as he treads softly into the brush, hoping to utilize the natural woodland stealth of his people and ambush any of the alerted bandits.

Remaining still and listening, you hear nothing out of the ordinary.  Off in the distance through the woods, as far as you are able to discern due to the echoes, is the occasional snapping of a branch, growing fainter by the minute.

Semina cautiously walks out of the dense woods in front of Naren.  She looks back towards the road to check the activity once more.  'Nothing still' she concentrates.

She decides to walk over to Naren while trying not to block his view,  "I took one down in forest," she whispers. "As far as I can tell no one is coming back for the other who cried out."  

Still on alert, she looks at him for clues to where the others are hiding.  "I am not sure what awaits us next, but if we are to follow rest of the party, then we must make haste," she whispers once more.

Sander lowers his mace and approaches Naren and Semina. Once he reaches them, he softly asks:
"What's the plan? Do we follow Thraim, or wait for him?"

"Maybe it's just instinct, but something tells me we should be on the move." Naren paused, looking a bit worried. "It's too quiet after that shout."

Naren begins cautiously following Thraim.

Realizing that his hidden ambush attempt will be compromised momentarily, Thraim steps out of the brush and starts walking towards the group.

Once he gets near everyone, Thraim says "well, it seems that luck may be on our side this morning, and the shout was not heard.  I think that we should stick to the plan and follow them to the meeting."

"Paranoid though it may be, but after the shout I'd assume they know we're here until we know otherwise."

(Where is everyone, anyway? Anyone got mapping skills?)

Semina moves her head back and forth between Thraim and Naren.  She listens to both suggestion offered to everyone.  

"I don't think you are paranoid Naren," she gazes at him.  "Either way if they heard the scream, then we are sitting ducks even if we find cover.  For they might hunt us down, while we wait" she whispers.

"Sure we can hide and hope to out maneuver them, yet I was at least 15 yards ahead of the scream and heard no one rouse to the bandit's cry," she speaks softly once more.

Semina's head now turns to Thraim.  "Either way, my vote is for following the rest of the party, but I will follow the majority's decision."

(OOC: Semina is standing off to the side of the road, facing Naren.  Sander and Thraim approached us, as far as I can tell from the previous post.  No map making here.)

The woods sound like they have returned to normal while you discuss matters.  Birds screeching occasionally, squirrels chattering to each other in the trees, and a gentle breeze rustles the branches high overhead.

"Everyone mount up and get ready to ride," Thraim says in an authoritative voice.

Turning to Semina, Thraim says to her, "you should find the man you took down and check his possessions.  Maybe he has a missive or document that may provide us a clue about him or his group.  I will search the other body as well."

Thraim walks back over to the body of the bandit and begins to search his body for valuables, information, and clues.  Once he finishes with the body, Thraim tries to loosely conceal the body by pulling it farther off trail and obscuring the body with branches and leaves.

Semina nods at Thraim's request, and pauses for a moment to looks at Naren.  "If you wouldn't mind Naren, when you retrieve your horse will you bring Icerick back with you as well," she says calmly.  "He knows you better then the others and won't throw a fit if you handle him for me," she gently smiles.

Semina begins to head back into the forest towards the body.  She searches the carcass for clues, valuables and any other information about his party and where they were headed.

As soon as she finishes, she will head back to the group, give details of her findings, and mount upon Icerick.

Sander follows Thraim's order and mounts his horse. He then looks around for Heathcliffe.

(Naren gets the horses. Just woke up; can't make that interesting)

Assuming he does not encounter anything nearby, Heathcliffe returns to the others.

(Ok, looks like everyone is mounted up and ready to go, what are you doing next?)

(Well, at some point, Naren stuck the oil-soaked rag in a map case, blew out the candle and put them all away. But now?)

Naren sits his horse with a bit of strain; he actually likes exercising his own legs and doesn't horseride unnecessarily. Tracking isn't his strong suit, so he merely keeps an eye and ear out while keeping track of what the others discuss.

While everyone was getting ready and mounting up, Thraim went to check the body of the bowman.  A few moments later, Thraim appears from the brush hold a large sack.

"Jerky!" Thraim says happily as he walks towards his horse.

Thraim stuffs the sack into his saddle bag, and then mounts his horse and prepares to ride.

Semina rushes out of the brush carrying  the weapons and treasure that were on the assailant.  Returning to the group, she presents her findings to all.  

"All I found was 5 silver pieces, 15 copper, a short bow and a quiver of arrows," she speaks quickly. Knowing the treasure will be no use to her, she hands everyone a piece silver with three copper. "I am not sure who can use the short bow, but the arrows and weapon are for anyone that can use it," she sets it aside.  

Semina  grabs Icerick's reigns and mounts the gentle giant.  "I assume we are ready to find the others," she eyes everyone.  "Let us make haste and not lose their track," she kicks Icerick into a trot.

(For Everyone:  The new plan of action is...?)

Heathcliffe proposes the following, "Let us send a pair of scouts ahead to scour the wilderness for the main camp and any secondary hideouts the bandits should have. Our scouts can then relay a message back to the group when they have agreed to an adqueate estimation of the forces we are dealing with."

Quote from: StormBringer;271674(For Everyone:  The new plan of action is...?)

(OOC- the same as in post #130 (http://www.therpgsite.com/showthread.php?t=12332&page=13); our skirmish doesn't seem to have alerted the main group, so our plan should be the same.  Does anyone want to do anything differently now?)

(OOC:  I am game for any plan, as long as we move this game in a direction.  I would like to make it to Castle Of Amber some time soon, and I believe we still have other people to meet up with some time, if they are still interested in the game?)

(OOC:  Stormbringer:  How far ahead is the rest of the bandit's party?  Also Semina is already trotting ahead, so she will scout, but probably unsucessfully.)

You approach the bend as quietly as a horse will allow; all you hear is the natural sounds of the forest.  A few glimpses through the less dense copse on the very turn of the bend shows no discernible movement ahead.

Quote from: Venosha;272101(OOC: Also Semina is already trotting ahead, so she will scout, but probably unsucessfully.)

(OOC- Well, the plan already had Thraim and Kagan-Zur scouting ahead of the main group.  However, if you would rather have Semina do the scouting, then I'm cool with that too.)

(OOC: I could also scout because of my halfling surprise ability but I would have to do it alone.)

(Naren just wants to not be a sitting target)

Semina trots her horse around the bend, you can briefly see her moving through the trees as she rides up around the turn a bit.

Thraim watches as Semina trots her horse up ahead of the group.  Seeing that plan is out with the bath water now, Thraim slows his horse down so that he becomes the last rider in the group.

(OOC: Okay...I was just offering to ride a head for a bit, see if I stir up anything.  I can be the target if stuff goes down, but I haven't seen Kagan-Zur post for a while, so unless he is hiding some where?)

( I am game for any suggestions, but I am only able to post once, maybe twice a day....so PM me and I will do whatever the group wants.)

Semina slows Icerick to a walk while heading around the bend, and listens for anything unusual in the area.  She hears nothing out of the ordinary and glances over her shoulder as her companions watch her from a distance.  She does it ever so slightly so she doesn't give away their position if something were to surround her.  

'I should have let the dwarf scout ahead, 'she murmurs to herself.  'If I am ambushed, I might have an advantage being a woman, or worse,' she contemplates once more.   Shrugging her shoulders, she looks down the road suspiciously.

Still noticing the road is clear, there is something that agitates Icerick.  Maybe he senses something out of place, or it could be the deepening gloom of the forest ahead. Semina halts her horse for a moment.  She dares not enter the looks of the forest without considering a new plan from the rest of the group.

The ferns grow lush along the sides of the road, overhanging the path.  About 20 yards ahead, however, there appears to be something of a gap on the left side, just off the road.

Thraim brings his horse to a halt as quietly as possible.  He pulls his crossbow off his back and hooks the leather thong on the pommel of his saddle.  Thraim then loads his crossbow, and tries to cock it as quietly as possible.

Sander stops his horse behind Thraims and dismounts, pulling his mace. Quickly, he scans the left side of the road.

The light breeze rustles the leaves and moves the underbrush, giving the ferns a swaying, liquid appearance.  Nothing seems out of the ordinary.

Semina take inventory of her surroundings quickly.  She dismounts Icerick slowly, and gives him a pleading look not to move or make a sound. 'Even though nothing seems out of place that gap ahead makes an excellent place for an ambush,' she studies.  

Semina readies her hand axe and looks in Thraim and Sander's direction.  She notices their attention to their weapons and silently moves behind them. Coming up just between the two, Semina whispers "Any ideas," as she pulls her hand axe completely out.

Sander turns back to Semina and whispers "Watch our backs, this may be an ambush."

Off to the left, you hear a couple of squirrels chitter at each other, but their argument is quickly concluded.

Heathcliffe rolls his eyes as the party trots forward on, "If we continue like this, we're all likely to die of suspense."

Thraim puts his heels into his horse to make him walk forward.  As his horse ambles forward down the road, Thraim brings his crossbow to the aim position towards the gap on the left side of the road.

As you approach the gap, you can hear the buzzing of flies, accompanied by the smell of blood.  Cautiously drawing up to the area, you see some ferns that were hastily thrown into something of a pile, while the ones growing between the pile and the road are laid more or less flat.  The effort to cover the bandit's corpse was either hasty and careless, or interrupted.

The road is clear as far ahead as you can see.

Heathcliffe, finding the odor and presence of flies distasteful, suggests the following, "I suppose someone can start digging..." He then smiles, "Or we could ignore this warning and continue forward."

Thraim leans over his horse and spits in the general direction of the corpse.

"When you lie down with dogs, your going to get fleas.  I'm not going to bury it.  If you feel so strongly about it, then I'll rest while you dig.  However, I'd advise against since we'll loose our quarry.  This must the one they were talking about when I spied on them," Thraim says to his companions.

Sander looked at Thraim and nodded.
"We cannot jepoardize our mission for the sake of a brigand's carcass. Let us keep moving."

"Yes. Let's hurry onward."

Semina looks over the burial site, and shrugs her shoulders.  She walks back over to Icerick and mounts up.  Over hearing her companions request to kept going she has readied herself to keep moving.

"Let's keep going then," she looks towards everyone.  "I'll let someone else lead for a while," exhausted with the temperament.

Thraim puts his heels to horse and trots up ahead of the group about forty yards.

The road is clear ahead of you, and the gloom under the trees is gathering, as the sun continues the journey to the eastern horizon.

It does not surprise Semina that Thraim took the lead, knowing his skills are perfect for the job.  She examines and waits for the others to follow.  'I have had enough excitement for one day,' she sighs 'I'll let the others deal with any consequences that may occur.'

Pending the others, Semina begins to move Icerick up the road keeping in line with Thraim's movements, but staying back enough not to be a bother.

(OOC:  Semina will stay near the back, incase something decides to rear its ugly head, other then that she will keep a close eye on Thraim, but her ears are listening to as much as she can around her.)

(OOC: So we've got a group up ahead scouting and everyone else is following behind?)

(Looks to be that way.  So far:

Thraim:  Forward group
Semina:  Forward group
Heathcliffe:  Slightly behind Forward Group

Where is everyone else?)

(In the middle of the main group. I'm squishy)

From what you can tell, there is no activity on the road ahead, and the woods around you, to the extent you can hear, have quieted down.

Thraim moves ahead of the group enough so as not to hear their noise and be distracted by it.

You are unable to hear any unusual noises.

Thraim continues moving forward, keeping alert for any signs of the group that they are following.

You can find no signs of them.  Are you continuing on until nightfall?

I would say yes, unless someone else has another idea or something that they want to do.

Semina keep her eyes upon Thraim's location.  She keeps a good distance away from everyone so she can hear for activity.  She positions herself behind the rest of the party, and starts to let her guard down as the day flounders away.

Everything seems to be normal as far as she can tell, and even Icerick settles his nerves.  Semina pats the horse on his shoulder, and looks for the sun's position.  'I hope we make good timing the rest of the day,' she ponders. 'I can't wait to camp tonight, for I need to meditate and stretch the bones.'

The day passes uneventfully, with the sun sinking further into the west with each mile.  As dusk approaches, the animals settle in, and the nocturnal animals start to stir.  You begin to see flashes of green watching you from a ways off the road, and the calls of the birds take on a more sinister sound.  "Tekiki-ki! Tekiki-ki!" are the sharp screeches and replies from all around you.  If anything, the chill that falls over the woods is more oppressive and stifling than the heat of the day.

About two hours after your encounter with the bandits, the path is barely discernable, and an hour after that, the woods are ptich black outside the radius of light provided by your torches and lanterns.  You see flashes of movement just outside the light, but you can't tell if it is the same animals following, or different animals taking interest as you ride forward.

It is around eight o'clock at night when you come upon what passes for a clearing in the dense woods, but in reality, it is just a somewhat thinner semi-circle ten yards along the road and fifteen yards into the woods at its farthest point, but there looks to be enough room for horses and a fire.

Thraim slows his horse down and looks at his weary companions.  He was hoping to catch sign or sight of their quarry before nightfall, but now they can't continue without fear of giving away their position.

"I think that we should camp here for the night.  What do you think?" Thraim says to the group.

Thraim seems thoughtful for a moment in his saddle and then says, "I think that I should scout ahead on foot and try to find the location of our quarry.  I want to know their position in relation to ours."

Heathcliffe supports the idea with a cherubim smile, "You do that, determined Thraim, but be quick to return lest we have to search for you after some smoking." He pulls out his tabacco and starts to enjoy himself.

Semina is tired and weary from the days travel.  She dismounts Icerick and leads him off into the clearing, so she may feed and water him.  She notices the eyes that follow her,but is  not alarmed, for if she was to be dinner, Icerick would have alerted her by now.

She ties Icerick off to a local branch, and begins to dig up a torch out of her pack.  She walks back to the group, and looks directly at Thraim.  "Shall I light a torch to find some kindle?" she looks hesitant. "By all means Thraim, please don't lose yourself, for I will be displeased at making your whereabouts a side adventure."

Semina turns before Thraim can respond and lights her torch.  Glowing eyes are never a comfort for her, so she will begin to find kindle to keep the lurkers away in case they decide she is food.

Thraim looks in wonder at Semina as she walks away.  He clucks to himself as he readies his horse for the night.  He removes the saddle and tack.  He rubs down his horse throughly.

A good mount will save your bacon, Thraim thinks to himself as he works and mumbles nonsense under his breath.

hmmph!  'Determined' he says.  Well, yeah, better determined than dead.  Being a good scout is such a thankless job, Thraim snorts to himself as he secures his horse with the others, and then starts chuckling to himself.

Thraim polices his belongs and mount one last time before heading out of camp on foot into the darkness.  

"Don't wait up kids, daddy will be home late!"  Thraim says jovially to his companions with a wave as he leaves the camp.

Thraim's silhouetted figure disappears into the darkness as he walks down the road.  When he is out of sight of the camp, he loads and his crossbow and holds it as he walks down the road.  He keeps alert for any usual noises, and he watching for the tell-tale glow of a campfire to pinpoint the location of his quarry.

Semina just smiles as Thraim sounds off his idle remarks to the group.  She finds dwarfs quite fascinating, and humorous creatures.  Semina finds herself specifically drawn to this dwarf.  'It must be his fighting style I find so enamoring' she thinks to herself.

She walks back over to Icerick to make sure he is comfortable, and that he has fed enough for their journey tomorrow.  She lets her hand slide down his side in gentle motion to assures him that there is nothing to fear, and bids him good night.

'Now for some kindle for the fire,' she wonders about.  There are a few fallen branches she gathers up, and places them by some rocks.  Semina finds some dry leaves, and places them under the wood.  She then puts the rocks in a circular formation, to keep the fire contained.  Knowing Thraim will find his way back with no problem; Semina will keep the fire going in good faith, like a land mark.

(OOC: Sorry guys, been taking finals and applying to grad schools. I'll be able to check in more frequently now)

Sander approaches Semina.
"Need any help with the fire?"

Semina nods yes to Sanders request and hands him the torch.  "I saw some more fallen branches to your right if you would like to gather them up," she smiles at Sander.  "I will gladly take first watch tonight, even though Thraim will out and around."  

Semina  finishes placing the rocks in circular formation, and heads back over to Icerick.  She unties her horse in case any unforeseen events happen while the group is resting. "Behave yourself," she whispers to the horse as she grabs  her bed roll, rations and a water skin to refresh herself.  

'Good night to get in some Dokuen Chi practice,' she hums to herself.  'Besides, who can sleep with all the eyes lingering about.'

Sorry about the delays, folks, work was a bit hectic right before the holidays.  Should be smooth sailing from here on out, and I hope everyone had a good holiday!

"Give me thirty minutes and we may be able to set up a counter-ambush" Naren says, pulling out his spellbook.

(I've got a free second-level slot, so I'm memorizing Rope Trick)

Pleasant summer weather soon gives way to oppressive cold as the night falls.  The fire gets started well enough, and just in time it seems.  As the fire crawls over the wood and starts to brighten, the woods feel like they are closing in when an arctic blast of wind howls through the trees.  The fire gutters a bit, but flares up again with a couple of logs.  Despite the added fuel, it feels like the chill in the air allows the heat no purchase to reach you.  The ever-present flicker of green and yellow watching you from the edge of the clearing sets your nerves on edge as well.

The howling of the wind is punctuated with the hooting of owls in the distance, and closer with the malevolent screeches of some nocturnal bird you have not been able to identify, "Tekiki-ki!  Tekiki-kiii!"  It seems to come precisely when you want to concentrate on a spell passage, or just when you are about to reach a state of calm.  The animals appear agitated after the cries, as you can't see their eyes for a minute or so after the piercing screech and you can hear them scrambling about in the deeper woods.

After an hour or so the wind dies down, but the chill remains; it steals under your blankets and runs icy fingers into your hearts.

Three hours have past, and the cold finally agitates Semina enough to wake someone for second watch.  She walks over to Sander and taps him on the shoulder.  "Your turn for watch cleric," she calmly states.  "I need some rest, and a chance to warm the bones."  

Semina turns about towards her bed roll, and kicks it a little closer to the fire.  She looks at Icerick and sees he is more at ease now that the wind has died down.  

She noticed the eerie feeling that crept over the camp when a strange noise screeched though the darkness.  Having her hand axe ready for what ever made the noise, nothing came about, but all the animals seem to scurry into hiding.

'Hope Thraim is having some luck out there finding whomever,' she silently considers.  'I'll bet the rest of the bandits have taken off in a different direction after they heard the screams of the dying.'  Shrugging her shoulders, Semina settles into her bed roll and begins to close her eyes, hoping for some sound sleep through the night.

Settling down into her bedroll by the fire, Semina is getting ready to fall asleep when the sound of footsteps catches her attention.  Looking up, you see Thraim returning from his scouting mission with an air of disappointment about him.  Sander rises to take his turn on watch, and you all notice a pair of elves dressed in dark colours on the northern edge of the grove watching you all go about your business.  They don't have weapons to hand, but you can see they are within easy reach.  Their equipment appears geared towards a long journey, but judging by the bulk of their packs, they have been travelling for a while already.

The campfire snaps and pops occasionally as the sap burns on the wood.

Naren has given up trying to memorize spells, since there appears to be constant noise. Instead, he is...approximating sleep.

*Tekiki-ki! Tekiki-kiii!*

He is approximating sleep so well that he notices Thraim come back - But not the elves. "Wonderful place" he says dryly "Just as soon as I start dropping off, I wonder if I'll survive the night. Can't imagine why. Any news?"

Semina begins to  fight off her groggy state as Thraim approaches the camp.  She can tell by his demeanor that he is very perturbed about his findings.

She sits up to hear any comments Thraim might share, and notices two beings standing near the edge of the woods.  Letting her eyes adjust, Semina is definitely taking interest in the elves looking back at her.  She overhears Naren speak to Thraim, and awaits his information, noting everyone's slight turn of head.

Thraim looks over at the pair of elves and says in elven, "If you mean us no harm, then you may enter the safety of our camp and warm yourselves by our fire."

Thraim smiles at the elves and sweeps his hand in an inviting motion which comes to rest on the pommel of his longsword, and he says to them in a loud and confident tone, "however, if you mean us harm, then get to it!  I'm tired, and killing you will just be more exhaustive work."

Naren blinks. Thraim was talking to...Elves? Now fully awake, Naren monitored the situation.

Semina unravels her bed roll off of her, and begins to stand.  Noting Thraim's exhaustion, she walks over to his side and cautiously keeps her eye on the elves.  

'By Thraim's tone, this will be over soon,' she grinds her teeth. 'Sleep will come in some form, whether it be voluntary or death.'

Sander draws his mace and approaches Thraim's side, his mace lowered but ready to swing if necessary.

Heathcliffe rolls onto his other side, undeterred, muttering in his sleep something about biscuits and helping himself to another.

Days and days spent tracking through the forests looking for traces of orcs, kobolds and there ilk and all we manage to actually see is a motley group of people lead apparently by a Dwarf.

  Stay ready with a spell in case this gets bad. Hopefully your magic is better than your tracking.

 "Hail the campsite were coming in"

 Directing my comments to the Dwarf with the oversized sword for one his height.  "My name is Sinjin, this is my friend Adaraliegh". Gesturing to my companion. "If you wouldnt mind sharing your fire and company we would be obliged weve been out here for some time now and are growig tired of talking to each other, well to be honest i talk mostly to myself.

Semina bends an ear towards the conversation between Thraim and Sinjin.  She coughs a bit to hide her laughter, due to the elf's attempted humor.  

Eying the pair of elves once more, 'They look as though they need the sleep just as much as we do,'  Semina changes her stance in a less defensive manner.

 Awaiting Thraim's next exchange, Semina places her arms behind her, and looks towards the dwarf.  She will not budge until his demeanor has subsided.

My tracking? What an arrogant self-centered fool. As if the lack of traces is somehow my fault. I just can't seem to figure why they chose him to accompany me on this important task. And worse I can't figure out his motivation for wanting to go he strikes me has having some personal agenda.  Although his experience in these matters on occasion has proven to be quite helpful the thought of listening to his condescending tone  is grating on my last nerve.

I welcome the company of others hopefully this dubious band of travelers can offer some much needed distraction. Even if they are a shoddy mix.

Heathcliffe can only greet with a roar of a snore.

Sander returns his mace to its place under his cloak.
"I believe him, what do you think Thraim?"

Thraim smiles broadly at the elves and takes his hand off the pommel of his sword.  

"Aye, I believe them as well Sander," Thraim says, "welcome to our fire and camp.  What's so important that you're traveling blind in the middle of the night?  Are you on the run from a group of bandits?"

Semina agrees in silence with Thraim and Sander.  She walks over to the fire and throws a few more logs on it.  With the entrance of the new members to the camp, she can count on no sleep for a while.  

After stoking the fire, Semina  begins to walk towards Icerick making sure his nerves have calm down.  Interesting enough, it looks as though he was never stirred by the elves at all.  'Should I take that as a good sign?' looking towards the horse. 'Seems both elves are disgusted with other either way,' she paces by the horse.  Semina grabs a few rations from her pouch, and walks back towards the fire where everyone is still staring at each other.

"If your hungry from you nights journey, I am able to share a few rations with you," Semina offers to the elves.  "Where ever you are coming from, or headed you must be famished."

Adaralieh intently watches the human as she appears to have genuine concern for her steed. 'Curious most humans I've encountered only regard such an animal as property'. Impressed by her actions I politely accept her offer of rations despite the fact my stomach will wish I had not. Extending a hand to her I introduce myself  " Thank you for your hospitality I am Adaralieh"
Not having as much dealings with outsiders as Sinjin boasts he has I shyly defer any questions about our travels to him.

Thankfully it appears the tension has gone down a bit, I dislike these mid mission surprises.

We have had reports of several orc and kobold incursions along our borders we've been attempting to track them for quite sometime. we havent run into any bandits about luckily.

  Dropping my pack nearer to the fire I sit back on my heels, hopefully that will help put there minds to rest. Adarleigh is talking to the human maybe this won't go to badly.
Have you encountered any orcs or kobolds recently? We are starting to think they might be working together on something , it worries us they usually dont mix much, alone they are barely a nuisance but together. my voice trails off leadingly

Now that he has something to say, Naren says it. "The same situation has prompted our mission. We are attempting to locate this organizing factor."

"Unfortunately, we have no firm idea where it may be - And these woods seem dangerous enough of themselves."

Semina extends her hand as well to Adaralieh, in a greeting manner.  She smiles at the elf, "Welcome.  Please come warm yourself by the fire, and eat."  Semina leads the way over, watching as Sinjin has already made himself comfortable.

"The food isn't much, nor the best,"  Semina begins to explain, "but it will cure hunger in a pinch."  She hands over the rations to Adaralieh, and begins to sit down on her meshed up bed roll.  

"Our party has heard similar reports about Orcs working with different vermin, such as gnolls,  but we have yet to confirm the stories," Semina looks towards Sinjin, and Thraim.

"May you be bathed in the eternal warmth of Moradin's Forge Adaralieh and Sinjin," Thraim says in genuine greeting to elves, "I am Thraim Glorerg.  The sleeping dwarf Snorri Steelskin.  The loudly snoring halfling is Heathcliff Baltimore Greensberry.  The sleeping orckin is Kagan-Zur, and the sleeping elfkin is Theile Starslinger."

Thraim motions to the human male with the mace and says, "This is Sander Lightwalker."

"And this is Naren Ezer," Thraim says motioning to the other awake human male, "and, Semina has already introduced herself with her generosity."

Thraim flashes a weary smile and says, "my companions and I are commissioned by the Duke of Cynosure to scout out the fens at the base of Trollspire Mountains for these goblinoid bands.  Earlier today on the road, we encountered a group of human bandits, and killed two of them.  We were on their trail, but it appears that they have escaped momentarily due to darkness.  In the morning, we'll try to pick up their trail.  You are welcome to join us in our hunt, as it seems that our goals are similar currently."

"May you be bathed in the eternal warmth of Moradin's Forge Adaralieh and Sinjin," Thraim says in genuine greeting to elves, "I am Thraim Glorerg.  The sleeping dwarf Snorri Steelskin.  The loudly snoring halfling is Heathcliff Baltimore Greensberry.  The sleeping orckin is Kagan-Zur, and the sleeping elfkin is Theile Starslinger."

Thraim motions to the human male with the mace and says, "This is Sander Lightwalker."

"And this is Naren Ezer," Thraim says motioning to the other awake human male, "and, Semina has already introduced herself with her generosity."

Thraim flashes a weary smile and says, "my companions and I are commissioned by the Duke of Cynosure to scout out the fens at the base of Trollspire Mountains for these goblinoid bands.  Earlier today on the road, we encountered a group of human bandits, and killed two of them.  We were on their trail, but it appears that they have escaped momentarily due to darkness.  In the morning, we'll try to pick up their trail.  You are welcome to join us in our hunt, as it seems that our goals are similar currently."

Semina slyly looks in Thraim's direction as he introduces the party to the elves.  Bending her ear once more to Thraim's voice, she listens to him describe parties involvement in the area, and the run in with the bandits.  

'That's right,' pondering to herself 'I wonder how his tracking adventure went tonight, all before the elves showed up.'  Without interrupting Thraim, Semina gives the dwarf a moment to breath.

"Talking about the bandits, Thraim," addressing the dwarf "How did that fair?  I noticed your face as you entered camp, and thought maybe there was nothing to pursue, other then Orc and gnoll gatherings."

Thraim sighs wearily and says to Semina, "I had hoped to find them camped right off the road, like us, but I was unable to locate the bandits' camp.  I even climbed a tree like a dang squirrel to hopefully spot the glow of their campfire, but couldn't see anything through the thick foliage.  Once I heard the strange and strangled cry, I decided to find my back."

Thraim sat heavily near the fire, and took a heavy drink from his water skin.  He quickly followed the drink of water with a sip from his whiskey flask.

"Ah, now that's nice!" Thraim says with a sense of satisfaction as he tucked it back away in his backpack.

Thraim scratches his beard, and then starts to unconsciously grooming it with his fingers as he says, "it just doesn't make sense.  We were right on their tail, and I should have spotted something.  Perhaps they took a game trail off the main path just before dark and we missed it."

He picks up a stick and starts poking the hot embers of the fire and says, "it's going to have to wait until first light anyway.  There's nothing that we can do about it now."

Settling myself in I  greet the other members noting that Snorri seems an apt name for the rather loudly snoring humanoid. I start to tell Thraim and the other about our recent travels.  Hopefully we havent covered to much of the same ground, we haven't caught sight of your party prior to this perhaps we can narrow our search now.  Motioning for Adaraliegh to join us. I'm certain you can tell our new friends what traces we have seen better than I.

The night passes uneventfully; despite the cold wind, the ground is softer here.  Sleep is hard to come by, between the screech of the unknown bird and dark dreams that wake you with a start, but can't be recalled.  The watch reports movement of the green glowing eyes just out of reach of the firelight.  Constant, roiling movement, as though the woods beyond the grove is naught but wild animals.  Always searching, always sniffing, never approaching.  Occasional howls and baying are heard from the deep woods on the other side of the trail, but an answer never comes.  The tops of the trees are always rustling, even when the cold wind dies for a time.  It feels like the fire provides a small island amidst a sea of circling predators.

The scrabbling and movement are near constant, even into the early hours of the morning.  The brightening dawn fails to pierce the heavy veil of darkness under the heavy trees, but as the sun breaks over the distant mountain peaks, the hovering green and red orbs that have been watching you seem to disappear, the only evidence of them being the sounds of paws receding into the woods away from you.  Careful inspection of the surrounding woods shows no signs of any particularly large number of animals; no prints, no fur, no spoor, no evidence whatsoever.

Your mounts appear fairly rested, but still spooked and edgy.  This subsides quickly enough as you prepare your breakfast and strap feedbags to the animals.  A small stream runs on the other side of the road from you in a ditch which exits the woods a dozen yards behind you and flows back in a couple of yards ahead of you, making a small pool that is easily reached.  As near as you can tell, the water appears clean, and is quite cool.  You suspect it is fed from one of the mountain streams, which you are sure must be getting closer now.

It takes a bit for the sun to penetrate the canopy and chase the remnants of the morning chill away. By the time you are ready to leave, the woods have started approaching the undisturbed heat of yesterday's ride.

Semina had just finished up her morning meditation and exercises.  She started to walk over to Icerick to make sure he was done drinking from the stream, and to fill up her water bags as well.  

Semina still felt tight and not well rested from the night before.  She looked over the party and noticed everyone was readying themselves for the days adventure.  Not sure of what the plan was, she packed the rest of her stuff on Icerick, except her hand axe, and trotted back over to the group leading horse right behind her.  

"Since I fell asleep after all the excitement," she smiled wearily,  "where are we headed today?"  She looked attentively at Thraim and Sinjin in this case since both wanted to still look for the bandits from the night before.

"Should we proceed towards finding the Orcs and Gnolls," she reminded them, "or go look for the bandits, who are probably long gone by now." Hoping the two caught on to her smirky attitude, Semina turned around so she could mount her horse.

Humph!  Women!  Thraim thought to himself, Does she think that I would so easily fall prey to her ploys?

Thraim smiles cheerily at Semina and says, "I suspect that the bandits are in collusion with the orcs and gnolls anyway.  We'll probably find them all together enjoying a nice pie and pint, so it matters not which lead we follow since the trail will lead to the same place.  However, for clarity's sake, we'll head further into the bogs to find the orc and gnoll bands.  I haven't killed a goblinoid in a while, and my grandfather, may his forge never grow cold, would roll over in his grave if he knew I passed up such a rich opportunity at it."

Semina gives Thraim a saucy look as she smiles back at him.  "I follow what ever direction your mighty skills take us, since I am no tracker," she states playfully.  "I just couldn't keep my eyes open one moment longer, as the tales spilled over the fire last night."

Semina jumps upon her horse and settles into the saddle, while grabbing the reins.  Her thoughts are directed towards the elves. "Adarleigh, you are more then welcome to share my steed," stating aloud. "It may be quite faster if we pair up, and head down the road again."

Semina is aware that tracking is second nature to elves, but would like to remain generous with her new companions.  "Thraim, I await your orders."

Sander surveyed the others as they prepared to move, then addressed Thraim.
"We should make haste. The animals are restless, and they are instintcively good judges of situations. There is something wrong here." Then he turned towards Sinjin.
"You are welcome to join me on my mount, should you choose."

Meanwhile, Naren is busy feeding and watering his horse.

After settling himself in the saddle with a good book, he looks up and remarks, in his usual calm and dry voice, "Yes, we'll have to ride all day long to catch up and riding double just increases performance efficiency. As for keeping on target, some are more skilled than others."

*Pause*

"Now, can we go, or do we have to wait for other problems to arise?"

Thraim mounts his horse and settles himself into the saddle preparing to ride.  He looks around at his companions, and the two elves.  He smiles and chuckles softly to himself, hidden by his impressive beard.

This is certainly shaping up to be a unique experience, he thought to himself musingly.

"Let's ride!" Thraim says confidently as he gets his horse moving back onto the road.

Semina waits at the side of the road, and helps Adarleigh upon Icerick.  The horse grunts with the additional weight, but just to shift his footing so all is comfortable.  Semina leans over and whispers into the horse's ear, "Be courteous my friend for she is our guest and I wish not to spook her."

Semina watches the group head out on the road.   "Thraim, we will take our place at the back of the party," states Semina.  "My horse will need to adjust for the extra weight, and I wouldn't want to announce our coming with his grunts."

Semina knew Adarleigh's weight is not the  issue for Icerick's protesting groans.  He is such a prideful horse, and it took Semina months to train him, and years for him to trust her.  Leaning over once more Semina grits her teeth as she speaks,  "If you do not silence yourself horse, you might become the discussion of our next meal!"

Icerick throws his head up in defiance, and Semina kicks him in the side once more.  "In all our years together, I have never led you wrong...please trust me once more."   Icerick bows, letting it be known he trusts Semina.  Grabbing the reins a little harder, Semina now takes up her position at the back of the party.

Heathcliffe, being in a fine mood after a pleasant nap, supports Thraim with a forward marching, though half-asleep.

After breaking camp and strapping equipment onto the horses, you notice the morning is dawning brighter than the previous day, but a chill lingers in the air.  The darkness prevented a thorough investigation of the area the previous evening, but in the early light, you can see the forest is starting to thin out.  You estimate you are approaching the swampland, as it feels more humid, though it is a cold dampness.

Moving down the lane, you can see more sky above you than the previous day.  The path itself is less even; small potholes become larger and more numerous as the day wears on.  Most of them are filled with standing water that explodes in a cloud of gnats and mosquitoes when you ride over them.  After a few hours on your horses, sturdy bushes and scrub have given way to bracken and long grasses as the ground on either side of the road becomes marshy; puddles of black stagnant water become putrid algae choked basins, eventually flowing together to form meres of fouled liquid dotted with sprays of swamp grass growing around the trunks of cypress trees; bare, weather-blasted trees that hang onto life by the most tenuous of threads.  Small clouds of vermin are replaced great swarms of them a few yards off the road.  They float towards the road and away again, never quite getting the nerve to sweep in.  Dragonflies of various sizes swoop through, feasting to their heart's content.  The great buzzing noises coming from all around seem like they will deafen you in short order, but for the darkening clouds that begin to cover the sun.

You have been watching the clouds all day; they seemed to be following you as you rode on. Never overtaking, never quite catching up.  The road is just more than a wide berm surrounded by bogs, and judging by the terrain around it, made by the sweat of many labourers.  Now, as noon approaches, the road slopes up several yards onto a lonely grass ringed hummock rising from the marshland.  The top is fairly level, though bare, and you can see the path ahead plunges into a dark forest of spruce and fir about two miles ahead.  The road drops back to the ribbon of land a yard above the the swamp on the other side of the hillock.  It appears safe enough the entire length to the forest entrance.

The wind turns cold abruptly, and howls around the knoll.  The clouds above look to be racing now, smothering the light and turning the landscape gloomy and foreboding.  If they keep gathering at this pace, you estimate it will be no more than two hours before the sky opens, releasing nature's fury.  The steel grey sky casts a pall that seeps into your soul, even as the air around you loses more heat to the brackish moor.

"My finely-honed mystical senses tell me we're in some sort of danger", Naren remarks dryly.

(Could I use Identify on the foreshadowing storm?)

Thraim turns in his saddle and has a very concerned look on his face as he says, "we must find high ground and shelter immediately."

By Moradin's hammer, I'm not going to drown out here and become vermin feed! Thraim thought to himself grimly.

Thraim looks around and scans the area for the highest ground that would offer shelter from the storm, and the very real possibility of the swamp level rising several feet or more.

Sander yells in agreement with Thraim, then scans the area for any higher ground they can reach.

(Do I have to roll for what I see?)

If you are looking for something specific, I would have you roll.  What you see in general depends on how much time you want to spend.

You are standing on about the highest ground in the area.  As you scan for details, you notice that the road on both sides of the hummock, while elevated several feet above the swamp, shows signs of erosion on the sides, as does the mound upon which you stand.  It seems the road has been submerged or near submerged at times in the past.  Being a trade route, it seems unlikely people would allow it to be completely washed away, so you guess the road is repaired on occasion.  The level of stagnation in the surrounding water leads you to believe the swamp would drain slowly, perhaps a day or more if it rose above the level of the road.

From the north, you see flashes of light in the clouds, followed by low rumbles.  In the ten minutes or so you spend reconnoitring the area, you begin to see lighting leap from the sky, and the rumbling becomes a sharp crack as the black clouds advance on your position.

Icerick nerviously jerks his body and almost dumps Semina and Adarleigh.  Taking up the slack on the reins, Semina calms the horse down as he prances around in circles due to the encrouching darkness.  

Semina over hears the other party memebers, and begins to look in all directions for a safe haven.  " I think Naren is right, these clouds came upon us to quickly, almost like they are being driven." Semina shouts.  "Thriam, all I can see is the hillock before the forest," she states  "although I fear this is where the storm is driving us."

Semina rides up towards Sander, "Were you able to find other shelter?"

"We have no time, we must make preparations for the storm here and now!" Thraim yells to the others over the whipping winds.  

Thraim dismounts and starts removing his gear and tack from his horse.

Don't worry good friend, I won't let you drown here or become gator bait, Thraim thinks to himself as he removes the saddle and bridle from his horse.

Semina contemplates Thraim's orders to prepare for the storm but the sight of water damage on the sides of the road, toys with her emotions.  She walks Icerick around a bit and takes inventory on how high the water has risen, especially on the mound where she stands.  

Semina looks warily towards the forest again.  She tries to make out the tree line to see if water damage is visible there as well.  Even though the wind is quite fierce and there is lightning dancing about, Semina still feels there is a fair amount of time to make a run toward the forest. Seeing that is is only about a mile away.

(OOC: Can I see the tree line?  Is there considerable water damage showing,?  Also...I read back on Storm's description that we had about 2 hours before the storm advances, so maybe we have time for alternatives..just feeling the group out is all? )

Squinting at the far shore, it looks like the large pine trees have exposed roots, but you can't see more than the second line of trees from here.  The hillock slopes down somewhat gently, but about two yards along, it becomes quite steep and looks like it would become treacherously muddy if covered in water.

Ahead of you, it appears the road might start sloping up into the woods right before the entrance, and it looks like there might be a ridge a ways into the forest.  Whether the road skirts the ridge or crosses it is impossible to say.

Semina finishes her observations and notices a road sloping into the trees.  She rides over to Thraim position, "Thraim, I will  do you bidding, but I did see a road winding into the trees."  "Our luck might be a better within  them, against the raging storm."  

Icerick prances around in a state of panic waiting for Semina's command.  "This swamp  looks like a death trap and I feel that we can beat the storm on horses,"  Semina shouts through the howling wind.

Thraim squints against the rising winds and says, "lead on Semina if your eyes spot better ground.  Take the others and I will catch up once I saddle back up."

Semina nods to Thraim's request and glides Icerick back over to the others that are huddled together.

"Listen!" she shouts, " I can see a possilbe road in front of us sloping up towards the forest."  Icerick sways from side to side, showing more aggression towards the darkeness forming. "I can kind of make out what looks a ridge a ways in, and we may be able to create cover once inside the tree line," hollering once more.

"I will take the lead, unless there are other suggestions to be heard," Semina smiles.  

(OOC: If everyone agrees, Semina will be riding towards the road, into the trees.)

"Yes! Let's not die!"

*Pause*

"I still have books to read!"

Sander joins Semina in riding towards the cover of the trees.

Despite the grave circumstances and the need for quick and decisive action, Thraim took a moment's pause from saddling his horse to laugh out loud and hard at Naren's off the cuff remarks.

Hehehe... that man has the gift of comedic timing! Thraim thinks to himself in a jovial mood.

Being a druid and a halfling at that, Heathcliffe ponders leaving the others to fend for themselves while quickly absconding to some comfortable earthen nook. He then thinks better of it, absolutely hating the idea of having to track them down afterwards, and thus simply follows, not volunteering any ideas, instead curious of where he might be led.

(OOC: I tend not to detail my characters beforehand, because they always end up changing - Partly to fit a character I'll enjoy playing; partly because they just do)

You make the tree line and see that the road continues upwards into the forest, leveling out as it enters a culvert about 20yards ahead of you.  It looks to be about fifteen feet above the level of the swamp, and you can see where the swamp has risen in the past from the exposed roots.  The culvert has rather sharply angled sides on either side that form a berm about ten feet above your heads.  The forest is thick on both sides, but the wind that whistles through the opening is also causing the trees to sway heavily; the creaks and groans that are echoed and amplified through the gully sound like the laments of tortured spirits unable to find their release.  Through the increasing darkness, you occasionally see a flash from the storm, and a peal of thunder as though the gods themselves are warring around you.

The road goes on through the culvert for about 50 yards, when the sides taper off to the level of the roadway again.  The road had narrowed to a few yards between the walls, but opens up again to six or seven yards wide.  Even in the gathering gloom, you can see what appears to be a somewhat wider area 50 yards ahead.  It looks like the ground on either side of the road banks toward the level of the swamp, starting about 10 yards out.  The danger of getting flooded appears minimal, but you are not sure how much cover you can find in a pine forest such as this, whose shadowy depths induce a sense of maliciousness directed towards your party that presses on your very souls.

Catching up the rest of the group, Thraim yells over the howling winds, "this looks like a good spot to weather out the storm.  What do you think?"

"Looks a tad bit safer then before!" Semina shouts into the wind.  Motioning to Adarleigh to dismount Icerick, Semina follows suit.  "Do you mind holding Icerick's reins for a moment while I converse with the dwarf,"  she asks of the elf maiden.  

"Thraim." Semina comes up behind the dwarf.  "I will take my horse and place him closer to tree line, due to his sporadic jitters." "It won't take a but a moment, and the rain will be here soon enough," Semina frowns.

Walking away from the dwarf, Semina looks across the horizon as the blackness descends upon the party. 'We should find some form of shelter,' Semina contemplates as she watches the sky glisten with lightning and rumble with drumming thunder.

"The first order of business" Naren hollers "Would be a lean-to of some kind."

"And perhaps a boat!"

Since they've found the spot to wait out the storm, Thraim goes about the business of setting up his tent properly to withstand the strong winds.  He makes sure not to set it up near or under any small or weak trees.  With his hammer he stakes down several pitons to hold the line for the horses.  Once he's completed his preparations, he'll assist anyone else in setting up their gear for the storm.

Semina heads into the tree line a bit, and secures Icerick loosely to a branch.  She knows the horse will not flee due to the lightning but his attitude can influence the other horses, causing panic.

She gathers some rope and her shoddy hand axe out of her saddle bags and begins to look for some fallen branches.  She inspects the limbs lying upon the ground and piles them by a tree near Thraim's tent.  

Collecting all that is agreeable on the ground,  Semina finds a rather small tree to hack down for her shelter.  Chopping away, she reminds herself to bring Icerick closer to her once her shelter is constructed.  

'What I wouldn't give for some fresh fruit or a fine pork roast,' her thoughts betray her.  Sighing at the work ahead Semina begins to hum to herself, so the temptation of food doesn't make the day seem longer.

Overhead, the thunder shatters the sky, and bolts of lightning wreak destruction upon the ground.  The wind is picking up, making the tops of the trees sway dangerously, leading you to suspect there may be more than rain falling on your heads.

Everyone is finishing up with their make-shift shelters when you hear the wall of rain advance on your position from the northwest.  Within minutes, the torrential downpour is pelting your camp, running down the tree branches and drenching the ground.  You can barely see the road through the curtain of water, but enough to tell it will be a treacherous river of mud soon.

More concerning than your travel plans are the vaguely humanoid forms that can be seen in the rain at edges of your perception.  Shapes that seem to flit back and forth on the far side of the road; outlines that seem stark in the burning white arcs of lightning, but murky and indistinct otherwise, as though your minds are playing tricks.

"Let's hope they don't like the rain either" Naren mutters.

Seeing the humanoid shapes moving in the curtain of rain, Thraim calmly picks up his crossbow and loads a bolt in it.

Yelling over the winds so that those around him can hear him, Thraim says to the group, "it looks like we have some uninvited guests, and I'm not feeling particularly social at the moment."

Heathcliffe arches an eyebrow as he spots the phantasms skulking about in the green but a look of surprise overcomes his face at Thraim's words. "So you see them too?" the halfling softly exclaims. He had momentarily pondered heading out to stir the lot out of hiding if they truly existed, but a Greensberry is never a fool and now that others were aware, they could take care of it.

Sander eyes the forms warily, then considers his options. A light spell would quickly reveal their unknown visitors, but would likely prove useful for more mundane tasks as well before the night was out. Command, however...
"APPROACH!" Sander shouts, spreading his fingers and pointing his open palm at one of the obscured figures.

(OOC: Ok, do I have to roll any dice? Assuming a D20 of some sort is required, I rolled a 1. Proof of roll can be found at: http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showthread.php?p=3570146#post3570146 )

Semina relinquishes her drenched robe and idles under her sieve like shelter.  She squats in a meditating position for a calming effect as she tries to drown out the sound of the battering rain.  

'Exhaustion must be playing with my state of mind, for I swear there is something hovering out there' she begins to tighten her jaw.

Never taking her eyes of the lurking figures, Semina listens to Thraim's announcement of unwanted visitors.  She alters her position as warranted and folds her arms into each other so she may reach her axe, if the uninvited become unfriendly.  

Semina's ears perk once more, as Sander yells towards the lurkers.  "It looks as though our visitors are uninvited no more." she yells to whomever is listening.

(OOC:  Semina is trying to look a little bit harder at these humanoids, is there anything more I am able to see?)

"Why are canines barking with this out there?! I'd think anything natural would be scared off!"

Semina sit upon the back of her heals, studying  the apparitions as they come closers, then disappearing.   She watches intently as the figures blend to rhythm of the storm.

Very alert and excited about the possible threat, Semina remains still so no aggression is shown.  She occasionally glance at her companions for any signal of what's to come, but everyone is posed just as she is.  

Semina tries not to let her mind wander on why Sanders spell didn't entice the lurkers closer, or how the moaning among the trees is beginning to annoy her.  'Stay focus.  Don't let your guard down,' she reminds herself.

Now the cry of the dogs brings even more emotion to Semina's stability.  She listens to Naren's comments, as her agitation tries not to rear its ugly head.

"By Moradin's Beard!"  Thraim exclaims as the figures disappear in the rain.

A little unsure of the situation, Thraim stands ready and poised for action.

Semina agitation has reached its limit, as it begins to betray her.  "Thraim!" she shouts, "Those howls don't sound welcoming."   Feeling threatened by the noise and hostel weather, Semina  directs her distress towards Icerick.  She peeks out from her shelter to take note of his behavior.  

(OOC: How are the animals reacting?  I know storms usually don't go over well, but now you mix other elements in...what are they doing?)

The horses have been a bit nervous since the storm hit, each flash of lightning and crash of thunder increasing their unease.  One of them nickers, and tries to rear up.  Looking in its direction, you see the humanoid shapes are beginning to drift in among the trees.  Although closer, you still can't make out any substantial detail.

The howls and barking are getting louder, and behind the mysterious forms, moving through the trees, you see the pairs of green orbs again, darting back and forth a dozen or so yards out.  This would be less disconcerting if there was a roaring fire in your camp making the eyes blaze in that manner.

Thraim yells over the howling winds, "By Berronar's Spoon!  What in the nine hells is going on here?  Naren!  Theile!  Heathcliffe!  Anyone!  What are these things?  Is it magical, or swamp gas?"

Thraim's shout startles Semina, forcing her to act upon the excitement.  'Why delay the evitable, besides I am drenched either way,' she mumbles to herself.  

Semina comes out of her leaking shelter and withdraws her axe into her right hand slowly.  Her main concern is Icerick's nervousness, and to get a better view of the threat closing upon them.  

Reaching the horse, Semina places her left hand upon the nape of his neck.  Aware of her touch, Icerick kicks the ground with his front hoof as she leads her hand to the reins.  "I will not mount you," she confronts the horse, never taking her eyes off the images within the trees. "If all goes wrong, do your best to flee.  I'll just weigh you down in this muddy death trap," she pleads with him.  The reins are loose enough now that one little tug will free the beast, yet he stays close to his master.

As she stands under the tree stroking Icerick's mane, Semina begins to howl back at the creatures beyond the trees.  Hoping to communicate in a non-threatening manner.

(OCC: Semina can communicate with animals.  Is she able to reach out to the dogs (howlers) in this fashion?)

Naren tries to gather his wits and figure out the nature of the beast(s).

Heathcliffe steadily watches the moving lights as he speaks to Thraim, "I don't know but should it prove hostile, magic ought to work." To the magicians of his group, he bids them haste, "Wizards and sorcerers, get ready."

Quote from: Venosha;282352(OCC: Semina can communicate with animals.  Is she able to reach out to the dogs (howlers) in this fashion?)

(What would you like to talk about?)

(OOC: That we mean no harm, and only seek shelter from the storm.)

Semina quickly releases Icerick's reins and advises the horse to back away from the howls, and figures within the tree.  She walks backwards to where Thraim and the other's are within ear's reach.

"We need to make a choice," shaking the water from her clothes, "either we fight what is approaching, or we need to get back on the road to continue on..... then again there is  always the swamp," Semina snickers.

"They said they are commanded and obey, and that the intruders are to leave their territory at any cost,"  Fidgeting with her axe.

"Whoever commands them provides them food, and has advised them we will bring destruction to their pack," she looks intently at her companions as she yells.  "One more thing," Semina pauses..."This pack is strong," she glares back into the woods.

Thraim hides his surprise at the fact that, somehow, Semina is in communication with the creatures.

"The die is cast.  We cannot wander around the swamp in a storm like this.  Either way, death is at our heels.  I've made my camp, and I'll fight here."  Thraim says grimly to the others.

Heathcliffe, surprised not one iota, chuckles at Thraim's sober mood. "You have a point. We should stand here and fight. Besides I don't believe I could lead so many people safely through the swamp."

"I do not want a conflict spawned from deception" Naren says grimly. "But to travel in this weather and terrain is a death sentence."

It had been some time since he'd seen such creatures, but Sander's memory of them returned suddenly.
"I've seen creatures similar to these summoned by clerics. Dark clerics. Our enemies are not living." Sander hefted his mace, trying to think of any spells he knew which would dispel or disable the creatures, but none, other than his failed attempt at a command, would do.

Thraim spits with vile and says, "The Undead!"

"Hear me Father of Battle!" Thraim screams out loud into the storm, "even though it be that these I'll soon send to you are already dead, they still count towards my tally at the Soul Forge!"

Looking at her companion's reactions to the choices that lay before them, Semina runs quickly once more to Icerick's side.

"Run up the road and check out the path beyond this clearing," she shouts to the horse.  "I will stay with the others as we  prepare for battle, but if the road is passable, make haste, for I fear we are in grave danger," she kisses him on the head.

Semina slaps Icerick's hind, sending him on the scout.  Tiring of the rain and worried about Sander's premonition of the undead, Semina brings out her hand axe and lines up with her companions.

(Sorry, everyone, the last couple of days have been a bit hectic.  Delay is my fault.  PM has been sent, so we will pick up again from here)

Icerick gallops to Semina's position and dramatically nudges her arm.  She glides his mouth to her left ear, and listens to information about the roads condition. Shifting her weight and nodding her head, she sends Icerick back towards the road in case he needs to flee for his safety.

Semina stands still for a moment, letting the rain wash over her face, staring down the forest creatures.  "Icerick reports the road ahead is sloppy, but manageable for travel at a good pace if needed," Semina yells for all to hear.  "Lives could be spared if we leave on the wolves warnings."

(Just to clarify, questions about the game can go here as an OOC comment, but questions about the rules or a particular ruling should go in the OOC thread, or you can PM me directly if you don't want to 'tip your hand')

Sander yells to Thraim over the rain.
"We're in no position to fight an unknown undead foe, even without the wolves. We must flee as Semina suggests!"

(OOC- do we have time to pack our gear and leave?  Or do we have to flee immediately because they are upon us and leave our camp and gear behind in haste?)

Semina looks  towards Sander as he concurs with her about fighting the unknown.  She places her axe back on her belt, and confronts the group.

"I can try to communicate a message that we will leave?"  Semina looks at Thraim.  "I can feel the pack surrounding us as we prepare for the worst, but they might be willing to let us go." Semina looks at Icerick as he signals behind her.   "If we take any longer, they will be upon us!"

Quote from: Drohem;283938(OOC- do we have time to pack our gear and leave?  Or do we have to flee immediately because they are upon us and leave our camp and gear behind in haste?)

(You can probably get your gear together easily enough.  I assumed you weren't making full camp anyway, so most of your stuff should still be where you normally have it.  Throw the saddle and bags back over the horses and cinch it up, you should be ready to go.  Breaking camp will take a while, probably more than you have.  You can probably pull stakes and get your tents roughly together, but it will be bulkier than normal.)

Naren watches the argument with detached, cynical interest. After a few moments, he shrugs and begins gathering up his supplies and readying to leave.

"If you insist, then flee we will." Heathcliffe says, his heart not dead set on combatting opponents unknown, as he quickly gears up and moves down the party's escape route.

"Mount up then and let's get away from this cursed place!"  Thraim yells over the whipping winds.

Thraim quickly goes about gathering up his stuff and loading it onto his horse.  He saddles up and mounts, but waits with his crossbow ready until everyone else has left the camp before he rides out.

Semina grabs the rest of her gear, and motions to Icerick for his return.  She places the items back on her horse, and jumps into the saddle.  She reaches down to Adarleigh and swings her up behind her.  

"This will be harder on you my friend," she speaks to Icerick. "Two of us on your back, and mud makes the escape all the more challenging."  She gently pats the horse on his side, giving him the signal to leave.

Naren mounts with economical efficiency and follows the others out of camp.

It becomes clear almost immediately how long the trade road has been here, as the hard packed earth that comprises the surface has shed much of the water the storm has been dumping all over it.  The shallow ruts that run parallel to each other have collected some water, but largely, the road is only slightly slippery due to the thin layer of mud.

As you start trotting up the causeway, you hear the sounds of branches snapping behind you in the impromptu camp.  The yapping and barking are quite clear before you make it fifty yards up the road.  Turning in your saddles, you can just barely make out the shapes of wolves dashing back and forth behind you in the gloom and rain, howling and yipping at each other.

What is easier to make out are the phantom shapes criss-crossing the road several yards in front of the wolf pack.  A bit further back, behind the other wolves, you see the luminous form of an enormous wolf with glowing green eyes as it steps onto the road and, looking in your direction, bellows forth a howl that chills your marrow, removing all doubt in your minds that it is a creature of nature.

Heathcliffe is a bit taken aback that the creatures houding them are wholly unnatural but he catches his breath and hurries onward, suggesting to the others, "Could it be that the large one's controlling the other wolves and perhaps even the phantoms?"

(Break's over, back on your heads!  :)

Sorry, had a few things taking up my time, but back on schedule!)

With a growling bark, the huge wolf directs the packs attention to your retreat.  Howling and barking ensue while the pack starts to trot up the road after you, growing in size as more wolves emerge from the woods to join up with the vanguard.  The lead wolves appear to be in no hurry, keeping pace about 50yards behind you while the pack forms up.

(OOC- we ride away)

Naren does not confront the large wolf pack.

As she rides ahead of her companions, Semina looks over her shoulder to see what Heathcliffe is describing in more detail.  She listens as the howls and barking continue to pursue the party, and tries to decipher their meaning.

She commands Icerick to pick up the pace, and to keep it tight, as she tries to listen in on the wolves communication.

(OCC: Are the howls letting out any new information?  Or are they just following us a safe distance to make sure we are no longer a threat?)

It's difficult to make out any coherent information, it sounds like location barks and howls to alert other wolves out in the woods farther.

Semina advises Icerick that she is not able to pick up any more information from the wolf pack.  Seems they are calling for reinforcements and location, but nothing more about an attack.

"Run harder my friend," she speaks with the horse. "Do not injure yourself, but let's not be made into wolf food just yet."  Icerick responds by kicking up his pace, but it tends to be a bit labored since he reminds Semina that she is not the only one riding.

Heathcliffes hurries along with the others, making sure to check the growth surrounding thier flight occassionally lest they be caught in an ambush.

The rain seems to ease a bit as you start to trot ahead of the wolf pack. You can see the phantoms weaving in and out of the trees behind you occasionally, but mostly in your peripheral vision. They don't appear to be chasing you, per se, but they seem to always be a few yards behind and to the sides of your group. As your horses pick up speed, the wolf pack matches, and after about 20mins, you have had to kick your horses up to a moderate canter to keep ahead of them.

The woods echo with the unexpected chorus of yips and barks behind you; you can see all three giant wolves behind the now fully formed pack, driving them forward. Your horses whinny in alarm, and pick up speed on their own, as the pack surges forward en masse. Although the road is getting better, breakneck speeds are not the first choice you would make. You will have to trust to your mounts, however, as they have ideas of their own at this point.

Gripping the harnesses, you steel yourselves for the ride ahead.

Semina feels Icerick's tension build as the wolves pursue the party.  She releases her tight grip on his reins allowing him to adjust his own pace during their flight.

She knows he will not falter in his mission of survival, so she let's him take charge as he gains speed with the dying rain.
Leaning towards his ears, Semina speaks tender words of encouragement to help Icerick face any doubts.

Naren gathers all his skill to stay on his horse as it begins to run.

He also readies himself to throw himself off when it breaks a leg. At this pace, in the dark, when is more likely than if and it would be better to be ready for that.

Thraim takes up the position of last in the group of horses and riders, trusting to either Semina or Sander to lead their flight from this supernatural wolf pack.

As the day wears on, your mounts have been steadily flagging.  At first, you could see they were out-pacing the wolves, now you can see the wolves simply don't have the stamina to keep up.  After several hours, you can hear them baying behind you, but the horses have managed to keep up a solid trot and stay ahead of them, as far as you can tell.

The woods passed by in a blur, but you can see now that the overcast skies have parted.  You are well into twilight in the dense forest, and the deepening gloom throws menacing shadows throughout the trees to your sides.  You are hard pressed to tell if the wind is moaning in the branches, or if you haven't managed to elude the phantoms.  What you are certain of, however, is that your storm lashed ride kept you from noticing your soaking clothes.  Now that the horses have slowed, the chill air conspires with your dripping cloaks and sets your teeth to chattering.

Riding through the darkened forest, you come upon an unadorned but sturdy bridge.  Peering into the woods, you see the ground on both sides of the road is becoming marshy, and the bridge spans a culvert joining the two bogs.  The sounds of the hooves clattering across the bridge echoes through the trees eerily, and is louder than you would have expected.  You can now see standing pools of black water, and sawtoothed grasses growing here and there in scrubby tufts.  As you progress deeper into the swamp, you can feel the cold on either side of you, and begin to notice wisps of fog swirling on the water, becoming thicker and wafting across the roadway.

You estimate it has been three or four hours since your flight began in the early evening, and the fog has long since risen past the level of the hock on your mounts.  You can see a few yards around you, so you aren't in danger of going off the trail, but it is impossible to penetrate the fog beyond that.  There is a mist growing heavy in the air above you, reaching down to mingle with the fog, threatening to envelop you in an impenetrable sphere of white.

You abruptly find yourselves in a section of road that doesn't have the suffocating trees overhanging it; as a slight breeze clears out the cocoon of vapour, diffuse moonlight reveals a hillock off the south side of the road about ten yards into the swamp.  There is a fairly gentle slope to the surrounding swamp, and you can pick out a path over to it with a bit of care, as there appears to be some drier gound between the road and the hill.

As quickly as it arrived, the breeze dies out.  The miasmal fingers reach out once again to shroud the clearing.

Sander calls from his mount.
"Shall we try to make camp? Will the wolves follow us this far from their territory?"

Thraim looks wearily towards Semina and says, "do you still sense them?  Are they still hunting us?"

"Though the horses are tired, it's best to keep moving with all of this fog creeping in. At least, until we can find a more defensible campsite."

Semina permits Icerick to circle the swampy clearing as the fog rises to an uncomfortable level.  She listens as a breeze gently flows for any left over howls lingering in the wind.  

"It has been awhile since any cries were heard," Semina faces the party.  "The last  I could decipher were orders for the wolves to watch the road as we kept flight."  

Semina cautiously dismounts Icerick to allow him a break from the journey.  "It has been over an hour," she glances over her horse.  "I believe they will not pursue."  

Semina inspects Icerick,  lifting his hoofs in search of rocks or small sticks embedded by mud.  "If we continue, should we lead the horses through the fog?" she looks towards Thraim.  "They are weary from the run, and I am not sure camping here would be wise."

As Semina walks around Icerick she notices a pathway leading towards a hill. "Thraim," she turns to the dwarf. "while we rest a moment, there is a faint pathway leading towards higher ground," she points through the fog.

Thraim dismounts as well and says, "walking the horses out is a good idea after that long run and this chilly weather.  We don't want them cramping up on us right now, especially if that wolf pack shows up again."

Turning to Heathcliffe Thraim says, "Heathcliffe, do you think you could scout out that trail ahead of while we walk the horses out behind you?"

"In these suroundings and with those shadows we saw, I do not trust this to be a simple fog. Stay within sight of the group."

Semina watches as Heathcliffe tiptoes in and out of the fog scouting the pathway towards the hill.  She notices nothing attacking from the sides, but the fog still disturbs her thoughts.  She grabs Icerick's reins and pulls him on the path of darkness.  

Exhausted from running for the last few hours, nothing would make Semina more content then dry clothes and a full stomach.  She rushes her steed up the hill to find suitable place to rest her bones for the night.

As she approaches Heathcliffe from behind, Naren's warning skip around in her head.  'Better beware of all outlets incase the fog become unfriendly,' she considers as she climbs the hill.

(OCC:  Sorry guys but I would like to move the game along a little faster.  If anyone has an issue please advise me, and I will slow down again.  Also SB: Once I reach the hill, am I able to see anything via the other side, or are we considered blind for the night?)

The hill is swathed in fog, covered to about three quarters of its height.  The top is fairly clear, but it is somewhat hazy due to the mist in the air.  All you can see clearly is the crest of the hill; beyond that, you can make out only vague tree-like shapes through the miasma.

"We camp here, then?"

(If the answer is positive, Naren will begin laying down calltrops on all sides, with the exception of the path)

Heathcliffe does as instructed by Thraim, looking back occassionally to make sure he is not seperated. He seems visibly uncertain about resting on the top of the hill, "We would have the high ground but no visibility. They could every well attack from any angle."

If we keep up this pace in the middle of the night, then we going to make and mistake and someone will get hurt.  We must stop and rest, Thraim thinks to himself.

Wearily, Thraim says, "beggars cannot be choosers.  We must find a place to stop and rest.  The horses need to rest.  This place looks good enough.  Anyone have an objection to stopping and making camp here?"

Semina brings Icerick to a full stop.  She is cautious of their surroundings, but agrees that rest is needed if the horses intend to go any further.   She doesn't say a word as she grabs grain and water for Icerick.  

Tired, cold and hungry, Semina brings out a all the necessities she will need for a bit of comfort.  As she rummages through her bags she notices her hidden pouch with a map end protruding out of the top.  

Semina looks over to the others as they prepare to make camp, and decides to undresses behind Icerick into fresh clothing.  She hangs her old clothes over her horse for drying, as she finishes dressing. She then grabs some rations as well as the map for conversation.

"By all means I am beyond tired and value sleep more then anything thing at this moment," she walks up to her companions.  "After our journey today, it occurred to me that we might be in familiar territory according to my recollection of what the Lord Steward said," she wiggles the map in front of the party.

"If my memory serves me correctly, there was mention of a stinky bog that encompassed Haarken Swamp, (http://www.therpgsite.com/showpost.php?p=262832&postcount=73)" Semina pauses.  "The locations act as a barrier for monitoring the foothills and Trollspire mountains against invaders we are searching for."   Semina hands the map over to Thraim, and takes a bite of her rations as she searches for reactions from the others.  

"My lords, I am weary from the journey and would ask for a wee bit of sleep before we progress with any further plans," she yawns.  "If I may suggest taking second or third watch tonight, then maybe our heads might clear for  a better strategy."

Semina lays out her bed roll not caring if the others leave her to find better shelter.  'Between the rain, the hard ride and reading animal calls, death would be welcome over sleep tonight,' she  contemplates to herself.  'Better get some sleep before my temper drives the other to fight the demons then deal with me,' she grins as she waves goodnight to the others.

Naren takes the time to subtly cue in anyone who hasn't noticed the caltrops yet, such as by flashing one into view for a moment.

Magic is a great resource, after all, but caltrops are cheap. Frugality at the right time saved lives, in his opinion. And he'd need his spells soon, if he had to guess...

Heathcliffe's trained inclination for safety is overcame by his natural halfling desire for comfort and he bows to the wishes of his companions. Finding a good vantage point, he sits downs and rubbing his left sole as he pulls out a smoking pipe, says, "Very well. I'll keep first watch then."

The night passes safely, though everyone's sleep is plagued with nightmares. When the sun finally rises, you stare out at a world gone mad. Instead of the hill where you made camp last night, your bedrolls now lie in a foyer of an ornate mansion. A freshly swept carpet graces the floor. The walls are decorated with bright, colourful tapestries.  Brass candelabras line the entranceway. They show signs of having been recently polished and are filled with candles.  

More frightening than the sudden change from the wilderness to a mansion is the smoky gray mist which surrounds the mansion at a distance of 30 feet, blocking all sight beyond. No sound penetrates the mist. A mule which accidentally wandered into the mist was quickly lost to sight, though its lead rope was clearly visible at the edge of the mist. When the rope was hauled back in, the dead body of the mule was dragged back into the sunlight. What killed the mule cannot be determined, but it died with a horrible look of pain on its face. The mist advances on the mansion even as the party watches, but luckily it does not enter the foyer. The double doors to the interior swing open into the main hallway by themselves.

Sander pinches himself to ensure he is indeed awake.

You are, indeed, awake.

Naren says "Sometimes, even I hate it when I'm right."

*Pause*

"Maybe I should have saved the calltrops."

Still groggy from the lack of sleep and the nightmares that tormented her thoughts, Semina heaves up the remaining leftover in her stomach.  She wipes her mouth with her sleeve and notices the beautiful carpet she just made a mess of.

She begins to pick herself up in stealthy movements as the bright colors catch her off guard from the tapestries on the walls.   She can only remember collapsing the night before with a dagger at her side when an eerie feeling creeps into her soul.  

'Where is Icerick?' she questions herself.  Panic begins to ensue when she fears the lost of her friend and her satchels of weapons. As she kicks aside her bed roll a friendly gush of air swishes over her ear, and she turns to face her faithful companion. Her relief is overwhelming, and she hugs the horse before checking on the condition of the rest of the party.

Semina eyes her companions as she arms herself with her hand axe.  She looks towards the others who are holding a rope with a dead mule still attached, and its facial expression sends violent jolts throughout her body.  As she calms herself down with her training, she prepares herself for any other surprises lurking through the doors that opened by themselves.  

She fills her backpack with rope, rations, torches, flint, steel and attaches her cross bow on the outside.   She places her belt pouch around her waist, attaching her water skins, gold  and daggers in place. She ties the quiver of quarrels around her belt pouch and gathers her last hand axe and staff for the journey.  She will have to leave Icerick with grain and light water, because she dares not take him into the dark that lies ahead.

Whispering into the horses ear, "You must stay behind my friend," she scratches under his chin.  "Don't wander off, and stay away from the mist," She throws him a warning glance.  "I will come back for you if I survive."

Kidnapped!"  Thraim says in a strained voice as he stamps his boots, and draws his longsword.

He looks around and is relieved to see that everyone of his group is there, conscious, and coherent.  The little and brief feeling of relief was enough to pull him from the brink of spiraling into complete and unrelenting anger at the situation, and just how powerless they were against it.

Thraim takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, centers himself, and exhales slowly.  A moment later, he opens his eyes and cracks his neck.  A wave of bittersweet pleasure washes down his neck, and he is ready for battle.  

Speaking is his usual good-humored tone, but with a menacing look in his eye, Thraim says, "supernatural forces have contrived this night, and our arrival here.  Let us not keep our host or hosts waiting, shall we?"

"That would be most impolite." For a brief moment, flickers of arcane energy play across Narens' fingers.

Heathcliffe, groggy eyed, awakens at long lost. Looking around at both his surroundings and bewildered companions, he can only muster enough sense at first to say, "Where are we?!"

Then gathering back his wits, he speaks to the others, "We need to escape this place as soon as possible... but if we can confront the master, though I dread the possibility, we ought to give him a piece of our mind."

Semina looks towards Thraim as a smirk appears across his face.  She knows the dwarf is not to keen on surprises.  She double checks her gear and joins the rest of the group as they awake to their surroundings.  

"Ready when you are," she motions her hand towards the open doors. "Let us see what wonders await us." Semina give one more cautious glance around the foyer and walks slowly over towards doors.  "Would anyone like to go first?" she turns her head back to the party.

The halfling proceeds to the doors carefully and enters cautiously with nothing more than a quieted "I will."

Semina follows quietly behind the halfling.  She keeps a good distance while he tracks ahead of her.  

(OCC: Can you give some more description of the hallway we are walking into?)

Naren stays in the middle of the group, like a smart wizard.

You check your gear and tighten straps and belts as you file into the grand hallway.  You begin to take stock of the situation, when you feel a chill breeze from behind you.  Glancing back, you see the foyer appear to twist and warp slightly around your mounts.  As the deformation becomes more pronounced, you can see the faint outline of a hilltop superimposed over the floor of the room.  There is a low oscillating buzz that grows louder as the room becomes more transparent, until you can clearly see the hilltop and the room is but a faint ghost outline around it.  One of your horses puts its head down and pulls up a tuft of grass to chew on, oblivious to the change.  As the horse brings its head up to look in your direction, there is a bright flash of blue light accompanied by a loud crack, as though massive stone doors slammed shut.  Rubbing your eyes for a moment, you find yourselves looking at an empty foyer.

"...Let's not leave anything behind or separate the group." Naren says shakily. "Whatever powers this mansion, it is beyond my own power."

With a momentarily pale look on his face Thraim says, "that's sound advice Naren, sound advice."

Semina jumps back against a wall as the blue light flashes with a thunderous sound.  She looks back in the foyer noticing the steeds have disappeared.  She glides towards the open door to make sure they are truly gone.

'Icerick!' she shouts inside her mind, not letting a sound escape her lips.  She lightly pounds her fist against the wall, and bows her head at his loss.  Semina calms herself down a bit, and walks back towards Heathcliffe's direction.  She removes her hand axe from a belt pouch, and begins to breath deeply.  "Heathcliffe," she pauses "lead the way," as she motions the group forward.

Sander readies his mace and is ready to follow Heathcliffe's lead.

"Semina, Icerick may be fine, anything is possible in this place. For now, he have to assume he can get by on his own, because we have bigger problems."

Semina looks over at Sander as he tried to console her about Icerick.  'I must remember not to let my emotion get the better of me,' she contemplates to herself.  She nods her head and smiles at Sander.

"Agreed," she lifts her hand.  "That is why I brought my other companion out from hiding," she glides her axe out for all to see. "Let us find these bigger problems then."

The 20' wide hall stretches before you for 80', ending in a set of double doors.  There is a ten foot wide red carpet the length of the hallway, and a single door about halfway along the eastern wall.  The wall on the west is set with three sets of windows, illuminating the corridor.

(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v237/StormBringer757/maps/foyerHall.png)

When Thraim arrives at the single door on the left side of the corridor, he'll motion for everyone to be quiet.  He'll attempt to listen at the door to see if he can hear anything from the room beyond.

---------------------

(OOC- Thraim's Hear Noise roll = 35% (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1976802/))

Heathcliffe, having proceeded before the others, will await to the side of the double doors at the end of the corridor, keeping watch just in case someone should come barrelling into the red carpeted hall.

Semina watches as Thraim passes her up, so he can listen for anything behind the single door.  She has positioned herself on the left side of the door, with her back against the wall awaiting Thraim's commands.  Her hand axe and stance is ready for battle.  Occasionally glancing back from where they entered.

Quote from: Drohem;288739(OOC- Thraim's Hear Noise roll = 35% (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1976802/))

You don't hear anything out of the ordinary.

Thraim will try to turn the knob as cautiously and quietly as possible to check and see if the door is locked.  

================================

OOC- Thraim will open the door and look in if it's unlocked.  If it's locked, he'll take out his thieves' tools and check it for traps and then try to pick the lock.

Find Traps roll = 100! (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1976929/)  (yikes!)
Open Locks roll = 78 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1976933/)

The door opens quietly into a room which is luxuriously furnished with plush chairs, polished wood tables, ornate rugs and other fine furniture. The furniture has been pushed back against the walls and the carpets have been rolled up. In the middle of the floor, an impromptu boxing ring has been set up. In one corner of the ring a man stands as still as a statue with his hands raised in the boxing guard position. This man is wearing amber silk trunks. You notice that his skin has an unreal quality. Seated near the boxer is a man dressed in colorful silks, fancy lace and rich velvets. He also wears a large-brimmed hat flaunting a peacock's feather. A jeweled rapier is slung on his right side on a supple leather baldric. He has wavy black hair and a closely trimmed beard which comes to a point. Two men in plate mail carrying halberds stand as guards on either side of the richly dressed man. The guards' flesh has the same unreal quality as the boxer's. The seated man's flesh does not have this quality.

While the chairs have been pushed back, they all face toward the boxing ring. Floating above the center of each chair is a pair of red, unblinking eyes that turn to watch you

Thraim stands there momentarily in disbelief at the scene before him.  However, he recovers fairly quickly and strides into the room casually.

"You, sir," Thraim says to the man with the wide-brimmed hat, "are you the Master here?"

"Terrific!  Greetings to you and your party, Master Dwarf!  I am Jean-Louis D'Amber, and welcome to our humble chateau!" the man cheerfully announces as he takes long strides over to you and extends his hand.

"As all men, I am the master of my own destiny, if that is what you mean.  I was hoping someone would be along to help me test my brute, and when I heard you in the foyer, I could barely contain my excitement!".  He speaks quickly, with a gleam in his eye.

"If you would like, you can have the best of your group come forward to challenge my magen and prove to the others I haven't been wasting my time," he sweeps his arm across the room, indicating the eerie chairs against the walls.  

"Of course, in addition to vindication, there may be some additional rewards for you.  You appear a troupe of modest means, so I am sure I will be able to guarantee any wagers you care to make against my training," he says smiling and winks at you broadly. "What do you say to my offer?"

Naren closes his eyes for a moment in disbelief. Kidnapped for a boxing match? 'Madness takes its toll; please have exact change ready', he thinks wirely.

Thraim watches the man approach him with feigned indifference, and patently ignores his extended hand.

"What do I say to your offer?"  Thraim muses for a moment and then continues, "are you willing to wager your life on the match?"

Semina walks in behind Thraim  to study the room and its occupants further. She watches as a man with colorful silk clothing address the dwarf with excitement.  She glances at the guards that follow his wake.   Semina loosens up her hand axe in case she needs to cleave a skull or two as the man offers the party a match against his discolored brute.  

She over hears Thraim mention his form of a wager, and looks devilishly in his direction.  "Their skin is noticeably different," she whispers.  "Although I assume they can still bleed all the same ," she lightly speaks in Thraim's direction. As she finishes gazing upon the men in front of her,  Semina's attention is drawn towards the glowing red eyes by the chairs.

Semina addresses the man, "The best of our the group," she pauses "meaning more than one?" Semina turns to look at the others behind her and Thraim.  'I wonder who will be chosen for the task,' she leans her head to the side.  "If need be Thraim, I am up for the match."

Hehehe... she sets 'em up and I knock 'em down, Thraim thinks to himself, thank you Semina.  You just pulled me back from the brink of that deep and dark pit of anger.

Thraim chuckles deeply and with a sly grin says, "Mistress Semina, we may have use of him after the match and I'm afraid there'd be nothing left."

Heathcliffe keeps quiet and watches; there is something off with the whole situation - namely the man's sanity.

Quote from: Drohem;288916"What do I say to your offer?  Are you willing to wager your life on the match?"

"My dear Dwarf, on the exceedingly slim chance you would be able to manage such a feat, it would get you no closer to leaving than you are at this moment.  Do take a moment to calm yourself; panic will not avail you here." Jean-Louis sighs.  "At any rate, I am not sure even death would release either of us."

Quote from: Venosha;288991"The best of our the group, meaning more than one?  If need be Thraim, I am up for the match."

Addressing Semina, the sparkle returns to his eyes.  "Gods no, child, I am not currently testing his stamina.  You need only choose one of your number for the challenge."  he looks intently at Semina for a moment, then continues. "You may not realize how brutal pugilism is, my dear, it might be better to have someone a bit more stout meet my champion in the ring.  I would feel terrible if I not only took your money, but left you greviously wounded as well."

"Of course, I will give you adequate time to choose your challenger, if you wish, and decide how much you would like to gamble on this endeavour," Jean-Louis says to the group. "No weapons, naturally, and no armour.  Just two skilled pugilists battling it out over five rounds.  I would even throw in a bonus above the betting, depending on how long your contender can last!"

Looking over your group once more with a hopeful eye, he doffs his hat and bows low before you.  "I shall await your response in my usual seat by the ring."  Turning smartly on his heel, he strides back to his comfortable chair and withdraws a handbook from his vest and begins furiously scribbling on an open page.

Heathcliffe looks over the man's champion and then turns to the others, whispering, "I don't think we should engage in this activity. We don't know where we are and we are surrounded by lunatics even more so."

"What's more distressing than his questionable sanity is his comment about death not being able to release him,"  Thraim says in a sober tone.

Thraim takes a deep breath and breathes out slowly, calming his blood pressure and relaxing his tense muscles.  

He looks at the others, stopping on Heathcliffe, and says, "I'm positive that you're right, Heathcliffe.  We shouldn't engage this person.  But, I'm going to accept his challenge.  I need this right now.  A good game of punch in the face should satisfy my anger at the injustice befallen us, kidnapped and possibly imprisoned with people of dubious motives, or, at least, slacken it for a while.  Unless anyone else really has the desire to accept the challenge; if so, I'll step down."

Semina smiles at Jean-Louis as he leaves to take his place by his fighter.  She eyes the brute again, and turns towards her companions.  "Besides we may need the additional reward to help get out of this place."  Semina directs her attention towards the dwarf.  "You don't need to play punch in the face, Thraim" she grins. "There is skill to this type of fighting." Semina leans closer to her companions as she remembers her training from the monastery.

"When I lived at the monastery we use to play similar games for sport," her eyes twinkle with excitement.  "This helped sharpen skills and find vulnerabilities in others."  "First you study your opponent in the first few rounds ," her smile widens across her lips. " It will wear them down, letting you turn into the aggressor,"  her memory replays images in her head.   "Once they are confused and weakened finish your attacks till they lie still or ask for your pardon."

"No doubt your punching skills are some of the best, Thraim" she pats the dwarf on the shoulders.  "We need you at your best after the fight, and not in a puddle of blood."

Sander looks at Jean-Louis in a surprisingly calm manner and asks simply:
"Would you mind if I chant while one of my companions is partaking in this contest? For luck, of course."

Thraim listens to Semina's advice, knowing that the ascetic monks are highly skilled in the arts of open-hand combat.  Thraim takes her advice to heart, even though he was planning something along those lines himself.  He has no illusions that she could best him in a match, and that she probably would have been the better choice to go against Jean-Louis' champion.  

However, what the others may not understand is that he needs this fight right now.  Thraim tries to be a happy person, a light-hearted person.  This is not easy for him, he has to constantly battle himself.  There is a place deep inside that he dares not go, a place he fears he will never return from once entered.

Smiling and with a humorous tone, he says to Semina, "I will feel no shame if you have to avenge my honor against this champion!"

Semina glance over at Thraim, and gladly gestures her arms towards the ring.  "After you," she smiles.  "Keep you step lively, and give him a couple of kidney shots for me!"  Semina steps aside to let the dwarf fight his inner battle as well as the brute standing in the ring.

Thraim prepares himself for a match of pugilism.  He takes off his armor, weapons, and shirt, revealing a hirsute chest.  He ties the braids in his beard together with a small piece of leather thong.  Thraim does a few sets of jumping-jacks and push-ups to get the blood flowing and muscles ready for action.

As a final preparation for the match, Thraim digs into his cooking supplies and finds the cake of cooking lard.  Breaking off a piece, he smashes it in his hands and wipes some on his forehead, cheeks, nose, and ears.  He rubs some on his shoulders, and then rubs the rest on the back of his hands and knuckles.

Clapping his hand together, Jean-Louis stands up with obvious glee.  "Excellent!  You will represent your party, then, Master Dwarf?  Outstanding!  This will be quite the demonstration then.  And how much are you ready to wager on the outcome?"

Sorry, Oni, got caught up in the other stuff

Turning to Sander, Jean-Louis bows deeply, "Of course, you may pray to whatever gods you choose.  They may even answer you, but I wouldn't hold out hope."

Semina walks over to Thraim's boxing corner and sets her backpack on the closest edge, so she is able to retrieve it if necessary. She picked up Thraim's items as well and positions them close to the ring.

She brings out a water skin and other preparations for the fight, in case dwarf is in need of bandages or water.  Semina bows to the fighter and the others in the crowd as a form of acknowledgement, and awaits the greased up warrior.

"Pick your wager carefully," she chuckles.  "Ready when you are," as she opens the ropes for the dwarf to enter.

(I'm assuming I have 100 gp to spend - Couldn't find a total)

"One hundred soveriegns on my ally." Naren says in a level, even tone.

"I will wager the same as Naren." (Also assuming I still have the gold.)

After placing his bet, Sander begins to chant softly, though he had a strange, unfamiliar hunch that his chant would be met by nothing more than a void.

((No worries storm, I haven't exactly been an exemplar of punctuality myself, so I can hardly blame you for missing a day or so.))

Semina digs through her bag and finds the rest of her gold.  She eyes the thirteen pieces and place 5 back in the sac for any other ransom she may have to pay.  "My wager is small my lords," she clicks the gold together.  "Eight pieces is all I can spare, in case there are other wagers we may have to make along our journey."  

Semina jumps down from the corner and places the gold upon a table near Jean-Louis.  "I place my bet in favour of the master dwarf," she glances towards Thraim.  Semina hurries back over to his corner to prepare for the fight.

Speaking to Jean-Louis, Thraim says, "the wager here is beyond mere coin.  I am ready."

As Thraim steps into the ring, your group realizes his unusual opponent has thus far remained utterly motionless.  The creature appears to have taken no notice of Thraim at all, in fact, waiting in the opposite corner with its fists up in a defensive position.

"Very well, then," exclaims Jean-Louis, "we will wager the princely sum of 208 pieces of gold on the match!  Remember, Master Dwarf, this is a boxing match, not a wrestling match, so no grappling.  Hitting below the belt will not affect my magen, but rules state that is illegal anyway, and it will count against you.  Of course, my previous offer still stands; I will increase the pot for each round you are still standing, in addition to the wager."

Looking at the dwarf expectantly, Jean-Louis proclaims to no one in particular, "The fight is about to begin, let me know when you are ready, Master Dwarf..."

The combat for this will be a bit different as far as the timing is concerned.  Each 'round' will consist of six exchanges, each ten seconds in length, for a total of one minute 'rounds'.  Each ten second period will allow for one attack roll from each, and a damage roll, if successful.  As this isn't a standard melee combat situation, we will not be using the Pummeling rules.  Instead, Thraim will do 1-3 points of damage plus Strength modifier for each successful hit.  After two attacks doing max damage in a round (consecutive or not), further attacks in that 'round' delivering max damage will have a 10% of stunning the opponent, allowing a free attack.  This resets each 'round'.  Anyone stunned more than once in two consecutive 'rounds' will be knocked down instead of stunned.  After being knocked down twice in the same round, you will be knocked out, rather than knocked down again, regardless of remaining hit points, and forfeit the match.

Any questions?  If you want to re-acquaint yourselves with Invisible Castle, now is the time.

Looking at the dwarf expectantly, Jean-Louis proclaims to no one in particular, "The fight is about to begin, let me know when you are ready, Master Dwarf..."

Thraim barely registers Jean-Louis' words as he steps forward, focusing his mind's eye on punching and beating this strange opponent.

Guess being a lefty isn't going to help much against it, Thraim thinks to himself as steps into the first punch of his opening series.

==========================================================

Round 1 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1984985/)
1st exchange- Hit AC 9 for 6 damage
2nd exchange- Hit AC 9 for 4 damage
3rd exchange- Hit AC 2 for 6 damage
4th exchange- Hit AC 3 for 5 damage
5th exchange- Hit AC 4 for 5 damage
6th exchange- Hit AC 1 for 5 damage

Thraim's base THAC0 = 17
Unarmed THAC0 = 15
Thriam's STR = +2/+3

Do we roll for some kind of initiative?

I think we can do this by individual exchanges in each round, rather than pile up a whole series of attacks.  Especially with the chances for knockout if the match goes long enough, dumping a whole sequence of attacks only confuses matters.  The first round isn't really a problem, but subsequent rounds can be handled one attack at a time.

Round 1 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1987100/)
     Attack = 9 Damage = 4
     Attack = 9 Damage = 3
     Attack = 20 Damage = 1
     Attack = 18 Damage = 2
     Attack = 10 Damage = 2
     Attack = 19 Damage = 2

5 points total damage, putting Thraim down to 26hp

Thraim is surprised at how deftly the combatant ducks and weaves, but manages to get in a few solid blows.  In return, the magen slips several punches in through Thraim's defenses, bruising his ego a bit, but not presenting any real danger yet.

"Very good!" exclaims Jean-Louis enthusiastically.  "As promised, you have survived the first round, so I will add a gold sovereign to the pot!  Each consecutive round, I will increase my contribution, assuming you are able to last the round!"  Smiling broadly, he returns to his seat until the next round begins.

Semina stands on the edge of insanity as the two exchange blow after blow.  She grips the ropes tight when Thraim jabs the brute, and grits her teeth when he breaks through the dwarfs defences.  Even though she tries to keep her eye on the fight, she slyly watches the other patrons as the match heats up between the competitors, wanting to make sure no surprises come up as the others are distracted.  

The first round is over and Semina awaits the dwarf to see if he needs help with any cuts or water.  She  looks over to the brutes corner and glimpses at the fighter as he assumes his stance.  Semina over hears Jean-Louis as he increases the pot by one gold piece, and offers more if Thraim can survive.  She has complete faith in the dwarf, and hopes his inner fight is being appeased.  

"Thraim," she speaks loudly. "Are you in need of anything?"

Thraim pointedly ignores Jean-Louis and focuses on his strategy while letting Semina assist him.

"No, I'm fine," Thraim says with heavy breath, "let's see if this thing can think on its feet.  It's just as I thought, being a lefty wasn't a help against this opponent.  I'm going to try and trick into thinking that I'm losing steam, and let's see what it will do."

Thraim enters the second round immediately upon the bell being struck.  He strategy for this round is to attempt to trick his opponent into thinking that he's winded.  He wants to see if his opponent will act upon this rouse.  Thraim is certainly not winded currently.  Dwarves were crafted from the bones of the earth by Moradin the Soulforger.  Their gift is their enduring health and constitution.

=================================================================

Round 2 (1st exchange)- Thraim hit AC 8 for 5 damage (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1987654/)

The magen ducks around Thraim's blow and throws a counter-punches into his side.

Round 2, first exchange (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1987727/)
Attack = 13
   Damage = 3

Thraim is down to 23hp

Jean-Louis watches the match progress with a gleam in his eye.  Leaning in after the last few punches, he mentions to the party "If you need to call off the match at any point, let me know.  'Throw in the towel' as it were.  It won't be necessary for the magen, of course, but I wanted to make sure you were aware the option is available for your dwarf"

Thraim over extends himself and slightly loses his balance for moment, and his opponent capitalizes on it.

-------------------------------------------

Round 2 (2nd exchange)
Thraim misses horribly (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1987949/).

Heathcliffe keeps an eye on the fight, occassionally glancing back into the entry hall. He isn't happy about this at all, believing that everyone should remain in tip-top shape for what other madness should lurk these halls.

Reaching under Thraim's wild punch, the magen manages a glancing shot to the head.

Round 2 Second Exchange (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1988179/)
Attack = 20    Damage = 1

Thraim is down to 22hp

OOC- Round 2 (3rd exchange): Thraim hit AC 8 for 4 damage (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1988190/)

Sander suppresses his urge to heal his friend as he helplessly watches the match.

The magen sidesteps Thraim's attack, and in its attempt to land a blow, stumbles and swings wildly.

Round 2, third exchange (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1989651/)
Attack =   1
   
The magen's defences are wide open, take +2 on your next attack

The boxing match overwhelms Semina's senses as she notices the fighter leaving himself wide open to dwarf.  She shakes the ropes with excitement as she glances over to Jean-Louis, watching him keep score of the rounds.  'What I would give to be in that ring,' she whispers to herself.  "This match is making me home sick," she remarks to Sander.  

Memories begin to dance in her head of when her masters use to taunt her during training.  As the fights begin to replay,  phantom pains and cracks surge through her body.  Even when she loss,a lesson was learned.  'I should have made the dwarf flip a coin for the fight,' she smirks as she comes back to the present.

Naren simply watches, a thin smile on his face and a fierce look in his eyes.

Sander looks over to Semina and smiles.
"If a contest such as this makes you home sick, i'm glad to have you at my back."

Finally seeing a chink in his opponent's defenses, Thraim moves into a series of blows which culminate with a solid left hook to the jaw.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Round 2 (4th exchange) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1991078/)
Thraim hit AC -7 (rolled natural 20!) for 6 damage (Max!).

Staggered by the blow, the magen tries to mount a defence and counter-punch.  It manages to slip one under Thraim's guard, but again, only a glancing hit.

Round 2, 4th exchange (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1992426/)
Attack =12
   Damage = 1

Thraim is down to 21 hp

Seeing his foe stagger, Thraim keeps the pressure up with a series of furious blows.

--------------------------------------------

Round 2 (5th exchange) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1992431/)
Thraim hit AC 4 for 4 damage.

Pushed back towards the corner, the magen takes a wide swing, and follows up with a jab to the stomach.

  2nd Round, 5th Exchange (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1993638/)
Attack = 13
   Damage = 4

Thraim is down to 17hp

Semina cringes at the last jab Thraim took to the stomach.  Turning to Sander, "I may need help taping up his injuries, depending on his mood," she remarks.

Sensing that the round is almost over, Thraim launches into a series a quick jabs and feints and finishes up with a left hook to the temple.

------------------------------------------------

Round 2 (6th exchange) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1993712/)
Thraim hit AC -1 for 6 damage.

The swing connects solidly, snapping the magen's head around, and his body follows.  Reeling against the ropes, it falls to the mat and remains motionless.

"Excellent, Master Dwarf!" shouts Jean-Louis, "you both did better than I could have hoped!  Certainly, I could have learned more over the course of the entire match, but no matter!  You have bested my champion in a fair fight, and I will add 100 pieces of gold to the purse."

Pulling an ornate key from his jacket, Jean-Louis stoops on the side of his chair away from you, inserts it into a slot in the floor, and giving a brisk turn opens a small iron latch.  Spending a minute or so rummaging, he snaps the door shut and locks it again.

"As promised, your winnings total 308 gold." He hands a clinking pouch to you, and steps back, preparing to carry on with his business.  "Of course, how you dispense that among yourselves is your business.  Now, I will need to tend to my magen, and see what I can do to improve his skills.  Thank you again, I will take my leave of you."

Bowing with a flourish of his wide hat, he turns on his heel and snaps at the two armoured magen, who promptly move to his side while he examines the inert figure in the ring.

Thraim walks back over to his corner, and picks up the sweat rag.  Wiping himself off, he watches Jean-Louis closely.  

Breathing heavily, Thraim flashes a wide smile at his companions and says, "here's  your winnings!"

Once everyone is close enough, he will continue, "what do you think we should do here?  Take him by force and interrogate him?  He's dodged any of our attempts to speak of anything else other than this stupid boxing match."

Naren slaps himself on the forehead.

"We could have bet information."

Thraim looks at Naren, smiles, and says, "don't kick yourself too hard my friend.  I doubt old Jean-Louis would've made such a wager.  I have a feeling that he'd pointedly try to avoid any discussion not related to his construct, or it performance.  I think that he hears the blacksmith's hammer ringing in his head all the time."

Semina continues to study Jean-Louis as he investigates his beaten fighter.  "Now that you have knocked out his warrior, Jean-Louis might be more open to conversation," Semina speaks to Thraim.  "Even though one  is down there are two other just like him armed, plus the red floating eyes."

Walking around her companions, Semina jingles some of the winnings in her hand.  "Maybe we could use the winnings to coax the information instead ."

While putting his clothes back on, Thraim says, "well, I'm in no condition to be charming at the moment."

Thraim motions to his sweaty and flushed condition, not to mention trying to come down off a primal adrenaline rush just a moment ago.

Looking at Semina, he says, "perhaps you, or someone else, could speak with him?"

"Please allow me to heal your wounds, Thraim." Sander moves closer to the dwarf so that me may perform the necessary spell.

"Sure, I'd be most grateful Sander," Thraim says with a smile.

Heathcliffe waits by the door impatiently, figuring that the man would use such information to arrange another wasteful boxing match.

Semina stands back to look her companions over.  This place intrigues her more and more, but could care less if they interrogated Jean-Louis or went on their merry way.  " The rest of you make a decision," she glances at the ceiling "I'll just follow."

Sander lays his hand on Thraim's wound and meditates for a moment. As he does so, swelling stops and pain subsides.

Cure light wounds for 2 hp, proof of roll can be found here:
http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showthread.php?t=147872&highlight=

After a bit of hemming and hawing, Jean-Louis looks up at the other two magen, points at his fallen boxer and snaps his fingers.  They proceed to drag it out of the ring, hook their arms under it's shoulders, and unceremoniously drag it behind Jean-Louis as he makes his way to the door in the eastern part of the room.

"Farewell, my friends, I hope you enjoy the...  shall we say, 'hospitality' of my family home.  Perhaps we shall meet again, but I do not find that likely."  With a low bow and a sweep of his cape, he turns on his heel and begins walking to the door, his two guards hauling the unmoving form of the boxer between them.

Thraim is back up to 19hp

Semina stop looking up at the ceiling as Jean-Louis begins to gather his fighter with his other guards.  She watches as the other magens pick up the their fallen brother and proceed towards the eastern door.  Overhearing him bid their party fair well, she looks to her companions for any signs or following.

The dwarf and cleric are still in a healing process, as druid looks to be standing guard at their first entrance.  'Family home, hospitality?' the words run through her head, as she finds herself walking at a fast pace toward Jean-Louis.

"My lord," she shouts before  Jean-Louis completely disappears.  "May I have a few more moments of your time before we venture around your estate?"  Semina gives her best smile and motions her hands in a friendly gesture so she doesn't come off as threatening to his guards.  'I may look friendly, but my hands are quick to find their weapons,' she thinks to herself as her smile begins to turn devilish.

During the commercial break, here is a running total of xp for everyone:

Thraim:
160xp for defeating magen
35xp for joint kill of bandit

Heathcliffe:
35xp for joint kill of bandit

Semina:
70xp for solo kill of bandit

Everyone:
1000xp each for arriving at Castle Amber

And back to our show...

OOC- It's on the sheet!

"My lord," Semina shouts before  Jean-Louis completely disappears.  "May I have a few more moments of your time before we venture around your estate?"

"Of course, my dear, but my time is terribly precious.  These brutes don't whip themselves out of thin air, and I will need to devise a whole new training regimen for this one."  he says with a hint of impatience, but seems willing to assist, for the moment.

I got a PM from Venosha, she's been sick the last few days, but is feeling better, so we should be able to pick things up in a day or two.

Drohem:  Can you let them know over on the Invisible Tower thread, too?  Thanks.

Semina frames her questions quickly since Jean-Louis seems to be in a bit of a hurry.  "Can you tell us why we were brought here or kidnapped, and how we can get out again?" she asks simply.  "Also my lord," she pauses, "what hospitality should we be expecting?"

OOC: Sorry guys...I've been really sick, and I am still fighting it.  Please continue until I can come back fully.

"Can you tell us why we were brought here or kidnapped, and how we can get out again?" Semina asks simply.  "Also my lord, what hospitality should we be expecting?"

"I am not sure what you mean by 'kidnapped' my dear," Jean-Louis begins, "the D'Ambervilles have no agents who are working in that regard.  I had imagined your purposes for visiting our family home were yours alone.  We get visitors on occasion, but hardly as many as before 'the move'.  Ahhh...  we were well respected in the old days.  Noblesse Oblige had real meaning back then, not just a generous sprinkling of gold in the market square.  Of course, largesse was a part of it, to be sure..."  He trails off to his thoughts for a moment, as though lost in a dream.

"At any rate," he continues after mildly shaking his head, "our hospitality has not lessened over the years."  He gestures around him, in almost a sense of wonder, "Within these walls, you will find reward and consequence in equal measure.  Perhaps, you may even find our Prince Stephen.  He may be able to tell you how to return to where you wish, if the front door is not convenient enough."  he concludes with a chuckle.

Heathcliffe works up an awkward smile.

"Now you are only making yourself look foolish, you fop.  You know the meaning of the word kidnapped.  We were forcibly brought here against our will.  We were kidnapped," Thraim with growing ire.

"Front door convenient enough?!" Thraim spits with obvious anger, "Perhaps we should step into the ring, and I'll will wipe that chuckle off your face?  Or I could do it here and now?"

Quote from: Drohem;294426"Perhaps we should step into the ring, and I'll will wipe that chuckle off your face?  Or I could do it here and now?"

"Then you may find our manor less than welcoming, Master Dwarf.  In any case, I do have things to attend to, and I really must be going."  With that, he motions to his guards and continues toward the door.  He calls out over his shoulder, "I wish you all well, but I fear you will find more consequence than reward."

Semina steps aside for a moment while Thraim threatens Jean-Louis.  She doesn't want retaliation for the dwarf's anger, but she positions her hand upon her belt close to her hand axe, waiting for any sudden movement.  

She listens as Jean-Louis disarms Thraim with bidding the group farewell, and smiles at the thought of having more consequences than rewards.  'This ought to be interesting,' she remarks to herself.  

"Where shall we start?" she addresses everyone.

"Yes, all should be worried about the consequences of their actions, Master Dandy," Thraim says to his back.

Reaching the door, Jean-Louis opens it so his guards can drag the fallen boxer through, turns to you with a warm smile and waves a hearty farewell before closing the door behind him.

hehehehe, Thraim thought to himself, the next time we meet, Jean-Louis, we shall just see who is smiling and who is not.

Heathcliffe sighs, relieved that the blossoming hostilities did not erupt into violence.

"We best not stick around here - in any case, it may be our advantage to seek out that fellow he mentioned and raid thier kitchen for any foodstuffs."

Thraim looks sideways at Heathcliffe and says with a chuckle, "indeed, Heathcliffe, indeed.  Let us leave this room."

Semina turns around to follow the others out of the room. "Food sounds like a novel concept," agreeing with Heathcliffe.  "All your fighting made me hungry Thraim," she smiles.  "Maybe we will find Prince Stephen making sandwiches in the kitchen, though I dare not take food from this manor," Semina's smile turns into an evil grin.  "Either way, are we headed back towards the outer hallway?" she asks.

Thraim chuckles and says, "well, I could go for a sandwich after that match.  Let's see just how much hospitality Jean-Louis' family is willing to provide... or, how much I am going to take from them.  Lead on Semina, or Heathcliffe just follow your nose."

I kept thinking the room you are in was on the first map I posted, sorry about that.

(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v237/StormBringer757/maps/boxingRoom.png)

Semina looks back at the door they entered before the boxing match. "Let's head back out to the hallway again," she glances at everyone. "We can take our chances through the double doors, and if nothing comes up we can follow Jean's lead."

Curiosity thrashes about as Semina turns and walks towards the entry way they came through.  She does her best to distract Thraim from following Jean-Louis. 'Need to calm his temper a bit before we run into the ring master again,' she comments to herself. Semina places on hand upon the tip of her axe as she glides into the hallway.

OOC: What time of day is it? Once we enter the hallway, has anything changed?

For convenience, let's say you woke up in the foyer at 6am, and have spent the last hour or so with the boxing and everything.  We'll call it 7:30.  The hallway is exactly how you left it.

Heathcliffe heads to the double doors, "Let's keep to the welcoming carpet lest we run into the more sinister inhabitants of this abode. I think Jean-Pierre was perhaps one of the more amiable nuts in this bunch." He smiles grimly.

You find the entry hall as empty as it was when you arrived.  The doors leading to the foyer stand open, and you can see beyond that to the fog outside.  It appears to be holding at the doors on the far side, neither advancing nor retreating.  On the north wall, the double doors are shut, but the luxurious red carpeting runs beneath them uninterrupted.

Semina calmly walks down the red carpet and stop in front of the double doors.  She places her ear on the left door, hoping to catch a echo of trouble before they enter.  'There might be another match brewing ahead,' she thinks to herself.  

Semina brings up her right hand asking the others to stop, so she can listen deeply to any events taking place on the other side.


OOC:  Rolled to listen.
Listen (1d6=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2014542/)

(Have we slept enough that Sander and the other magic-users have relearned their spells?)

Sander stops behind Semina and waits for her report.

The party has just woken up about an hour and a half prior.  Everyone has the full complement of spells, minus the cure light wounds you already used.

Quote from: Venosha;295105Semina brings up her right hand asking the others to stop, so she can listen deeply to any events taking place on the other side.

OOC:  Rolled to listen.
Listen (1d6=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2014542/)

You are unable to hear anything unusual through the door.

Semina listens intently for sounds from the other side of the double doors, but she is unable to hear anything unusual.  "As far as I can tell it is quite silent on the other side," she whispers to her companions.  "Shall we proceed," she speaks softly as she brings out her axe while preparing to open the left door.

Thraim nods in the affirmative towards Semina as he loads a bolt into his crossbow.

(Sorry, my new place has no internet. I'm working on getting some. In the meantime)

Naren has been increasingly nervous since entering this place. It's the disquietude, one might say, of a professional lion tamer encountering an elephant for the first.

The powers here may well be beyond him and he is unsure what they are in the first place.

Sander pulls his mace.

"I'm ready for anything."

"I'm going to take a quick glance," she whispers.  "Just for precaution be ready," she smiles uneasily.

Semina's senses have been hyped up a notch since the verbal warnings left by Jean-Louis.  Not hearing a sound from the next room doesn't give her confidence there is nothing lurking, but her desire to find a way out leaves her no other choice.  

OOC: Can you describe the door that I am about to open?  Do I have to push or pull the door open?  Where are the hinges?

It is a heavy oak door with iron bands attached to the hinges on your side.  Pulling it slightly, you notice that it swings easily, with no noise, as though routinely maintained and oiled.

Peering through the crack, you see part of a enormous hallway, sumptuously furnished, with rich tapestries on the wall, gilt edged sconces, intricately painted walls, and the red carpeting extending in front of you.  You can see it is easily fifty feet wide, but you will have to open the door a bit and stick your head out to see the rest.

Semina pulls the door open slightly and peeks through the small opening. "The carpet continues surrounded by tapestries and furniture," she speaks softly.  "There is a huge hallway and the rooms is about 50' feet wide." She holds the door with quivering hands.  "I can see no more unless I peer around the door," she pauses "or we can just plow through."

Thraim chuckles and says jokingly, "well, we are welcomed guests after all, aren't we?  Let's see what other "hospitality" this manor holds.  Lead on Mistress Semina."

Semina takes note of Thraim's sarcasm as she throws him an hesitant look.  "Welcome guests huh," she remarks dryly.   "Come out of hiding," she dares the charitable hosts as she whispers into the unknown.  

Semina opens the door enough to let her head and upper body peer around the corners.  She takes protective measures to let only herself be seen, not letting the others be known in case danger rears its ugly head.

OOC: Now that she has peered around the doors, is there anything else to be seen?

Quote from: Oni Kadaki;295440Sander pulls his mace.

"I'm ready for anything."

(Has flashback to the computer game 'Majesty'...)

You peer down the hall, which is fairly well lit by torches and chandeliers, but moreso on your end by the enormous window behind you.  Even so, after about 80', you are unable too see much detail, other than the hallway is gigantic, and as lavishly decorated as your end appears to be.  There are more doorways further down the hall, but it is difficult to judge the distances to them.  Across the hallway from where you are, you can see another door.

(http://citadelofchaos.net/StormBringer/amberMaps/greatHallpt1.png)

Semina finishes her scouting of the room. "I see no one on the other side so far," she remarks.  "Just a bunch of torches, a big hallway and doors of plenty."  She begins to open the door for all to see and enters the room quietly.  "Let's see who will be our welcoming party this time," she looks back towards her companions coaxing them to enter.

"Lead on," Thraim says casually to Semina.

Semina proceeds to the door across the hallway from the entrance. "I've always been told to take what comes first," she leans up against the door to listen for any noise.  "Anyone smell or sense anything out of the ordinary?" she looks to the group.

OOC: Once again Semina will listen for noise at the new door in front of her.  
WOO HOO!  Semina's got to get her ears cleaned!
Listen roll. (1d6=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2024176/)

Naren wanders this side of the hallway, looking for anything that looks arcane.

Heathcliffe follows, relatively relaxed, hand on hilt.

Hearing nothing from the other side of the door, Semina tries to open it, keeping herself clear of the entry way incase something charges the opening.

OOC: Are all the doors pretty similar to the one we just opened?  Like the handles and hinges?

The door swings towards you with nary a sound, opening into a corridor ten feet wide and fifty feet long.  On the eastern wall, there are three doors, one twenty feet up, one right next to that, and the last at the far end of the corridor.

(http://www.citadelofchaos.net/StormBringer/amberMaps/northCorridor.png)

Semina stares into the abyss as the door opens to another hallway and more doors along the eastern wall.  She slumps against the frame and looks at her companions as they wander around the hall way.  "Got any suggestions?" she asks  to anyone listening.  "Should we explore this area first, or search behind door number one?"

Semina eases her grip on her hand axe as she awaits the groups decision.

In hushed tones, Thraim says, "let's do this by the numbers, I don't anything popping up behind us."

"My thoughts exactly. Let's try to keep suprises where we can see them." Naren says, annoyed.

Heathcliffe affirms the plan with a solid nod.

"By the numbers," Semina nods at Thraim, as she scouts off in the direction of the  doors. She picks up the pace till she reaches the first door on the eastern wall, "I'll try listening once more," she remarks quietly.  She places her axe in her right hand as she listens with her left ear.  

Listen Roll (1d6=5) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2032217/)
OOC:  Would it be okay to assume that all the doors open outward?  If not could you let me know what kind of door I am tangling with?

Thraim stands about eight feet behind Semina while she concentrates on the job at hand, covering her back with his crossbow and scanning the hallway ahead.

Snorri readies his hammer with a grunt and moves to stand beside Thraim, muttering, "I hate magic".

There are no unusual noises from behind the door.

Heathcliffe, readying his sling and a bullet, raises his brow at Snorri's words, and quietly quips with a faint smile, "Oh, don't we all?"

Semina stands facing the door with a dissatisfied look. 'Not another hallway,' she thinks to herself as she grinds her teeth. "I hear nothing," she whispers to the others.  "I'm going to open slowly," she speaks softly to her armed companions.

Semina grips the handle and slowly opens the door.  She uses the door as a shield, while letting her head peek around the door to see if there is anything wandering about.

Peering around the door, you see the entire floor is covered with a slimy green goo.  The only part not so covered is a small four-foot-square stone platform raised 2’ off the floor, located against the east wall.  Cemented to the platform is a stone chest shaped like a 3’ cube.  The entire ceiling is a dull black.

The hairs on the back of Thraim's neck start to rise as he surveys the room from outside.  

This ain't right, something is wrong here, he thinks to himself.

"I don't like the looks of this room, don't go in Semina," Thraim says to her.

Semina backs away from the door quickly, as she notices a green goo covering almost the entire room.  "Something foul  lingers inside ," she speaks quietly with disgust.  " A green goo covers most areas, except for a stone chest against the east wall," she pauses, "and the ceiling looks unnaturally dull and black."

Waiting to see her companions reactions, Semina keeps her eye on the door making sure the goo doesn't inch out of the room.  "Anyone ever tangled with goo before?" she whispers softly over her shoulder.

"Let me try something.  Semina, get ready to slam the door shut, if you would please," Thraim says.

Thraim steps forward into the doorway, but stands about three feet back of the actual room.  He points his crossbow at the ceiling and let's a bolt fly into it.

Semina looks over at Thraim as he walks about 3 feet in front of the room.  She grabs the door handle as requested and watches the dwarf aim towards the ceiling.  "Tell me when," she watches intently as she readies herself in a running stance. 'Hope the door holds.' she  anxiously mumbles to herself.  

Semina cringes as Thraim shoots a bolt at the ceiling, and awaits nervously for the dwarfs command.

The bolt whistles through the air and strikes the ceiling with a muffled tink, and tumbles end over end onto the floor where it is quickly absorbed by the green slop.  There appears to have been something of a dent where the bolt hit, but it is smoothed over now.

Semina observes the bolt hit the ceiling, and then tumbling into the green goop. As it is being absorbed by the green atrocity, Semina stares up at the ceiling in astonishment as it repairs itself from the shot. "Tell me you saw that," her mouth drops open as she hides behind the door. "Should I shut the door now, or does someone else want to fire upon it?"

As Semina quickly glances between her companions, she diverts her eyes back to the green glob, making sure it hasn't spilled into the hallway.

OOC: Is the green goo oozing its way out the door yet or moving in any direction?

Aside from a barely perceptible roiling, it hasn't appeared to move at all.

Thraim chuckles and says, "yup, I saw it too.  'Fire' you say?"

Thraim mindlessly grooms his beard with his fingers as he thinks out loud, "the only gold we'll find in that chest is fool's gold, that is if we ever made to that stone chest."  

"Anyone have some oil we could toss in there?"  Thraim says with a wink and smile.

(If I remember correctly, my character does. More after I wake up)

Shaking his head, Snorri grumbles, "I have some oil for my lantern." He grunts and wrestles his pack off after leaning his shield against his leg. Making sure to maintain a grip on his warhammer, Snorri rummages a flask of oil from his pack and hands it to Thraim before shrugging his pack back on and retrieving his shield. "I'm not likin' the look 'o this one bit."

Thraim nods in agreement of Snorri's grumble and takes the pint.  He kneels and sets it down on the ground, and pulls off his backpack.  He digs through it for a few moments and pulls out a pint of oil as well.  He squares his pack away, stands up, and puts his backpack on again.  After adjusting the straps to his satisfaction, he picks up the two pints of oil.

"Snorri, would you please grab one of those torches off the wall?"  Thraim says as he hands a pint of oil to Semina.

Looking at her, he winks and says, "which do you want, the top or the bottom?  We throw, and Snorri follows with the torch, right?"

"Let the wizard do it", Snorri says, positioning his shield at the ready and drawing his hammer back for a throw, "I wanna be ready if that foul mass moves."

Heathcliffe, replacing his sling and stone, awaits for his companions to become bored of thier experimentation by keeping watch on the other two doors of the hallway.

"I can certainly throw a torch" Naren says, moving to be ready to do so.

Thraim nods at Naren and says, "fine by me.  We'll toss and then you throw."

Naren makes ready to light a fire.

Semina hold the oil in her hand, as she watches Naren ready the torch.  "I'll throw mine on the green glob I guess," she says with uncertainty.  "I don't think our hosts will be to happy with us for setting a room on fire, but maybe the globs are a nuisance," she further adds.  

Semina attaches her axe to the front of her belt, and uses the door as a shield.  She readies the oil, "On your count Thraim."

"I don't like this one bit", growls Snorri, "if this stuff is like what can be found in underground caverns, it eats through metal and flesh, and is dangerous. I like treasure as much as the next dwarf, but I'm not sure anything in that box is worth the risk. If the group decides it's worth it though, I'm with ya."

Thraim chuckles and says, "three... two... one!"

After the count of 'one,' Thraim throws his flask of oil at the ceiling, near the center point of the room.

"Treasure means nothing to me, but life does," Semina cautions the others. Before she can finish her warning, Semina glances in Thraim's direction as he tosses his oil flask into the room.

"Guess there's no turning back now," Semina remarks to Snorri.  She throws the pint of oil as hard as she can towards the stone chest so that the oil is not absorbed completely by the glob.

"Fire is all that is left," she begins to move away from the door towards Heathcliffe.

Semina needs to roll against AC4 to hit the chest
Thraim needs to roll against AC5 to hit the ceiling where he wants

After hits are determined, I will roll to see if the flasks break.  Since you are targeting two different locations, you will need two torches to light them both.

(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v237/StormBringer757/maps/slimeRoom.png)

OOC:  Thraim's throw hit AC 2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2041352/).

OOC: Semina Rolled & missed.
Oil flask thrown. (1d20=7) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2041385/)

Thraim lobs the flask of oil at the ceiling and hits it right in the middle, where the containter shatters and spreads about half the oil on the black gunk.  The other half rains down somwhat past the center of the room on the green muck.  Semina's throw comes up about three feet short of the chest, but shatters upon impact and spreads the oil in a pattern encompassing the floor in front of the chest, as well as the front of the platform on which the chest sits.

Snorri watches carefully to try to catch any sign of movement from the room, shield held in front of himself.

Naren tosses a torch (Or two?) Do I roll something?

All you will need to do is get the torches in the oil pools, so roll to hit AC9

(I think I missed: 1d20=14 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2044404/))
(1d20=17 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2044406/))

Both torches find their mark, and the oil flares up with a bright flash and a wave of heat.  The ball of flame ignites the oil dripping from the ceiling as well, although it doesn't burn as well.

Roll 2d6 damage for the patch in front of the chest, then 1d6 for the following round.  The ceiling and the floor have 1d6 damage each, with no additional rounds.

(Look! In the sky! Invisible Castle! 5d6=14 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2045461/) 3, 2, 2, 3, 4. In order; 5 to the patch in front of the chest, 2 the next round 3 to the cieling, 4 to the floor.)

Sander watches intently as his companions attempt to hit their marks.

(Sorry for my abscence guys, grad school applications. Luckily, that's over, as I've gotten into one. go me!)

Congratulations!

Quote from: StormBringer;298842Congratulations!

Ditto!

The area in front of the chest blackens as the fire burns out, leaving an acrid odour to the room.  As the flames catch on the ceiling, the black mass flows away from the scorched section, which falls to the floor and splashes into the green slime.  By the time the fire has gone out around the chest, it has oozed back into the vacant spot.  It appeared dormant before, but now you can see it is shifting around, congealing a larger mass first on one place, then in another.

Thraim watches the black ooze intently before saying, "it's just as I suspected, that thing is alive.  I seen similar things before.  What do you think?  Do you want to kill it and see what's in the chest?  Or, do we just the close the door and move on?"

Semina observes the globs reactions as the flames burn out.   She notices the one on the ceiling is quite aggravated as it begins to shift around making larger masses, one after another.  "Thraim," Semina's tone is uneasy.  "We should move on while we can," she pauses "nothing in that room is worth dying for."

Awaiting for the others to respond, Semina retrieves her staff off of her pack so she can close the door more cautiously. "Looks like the one on the ceiling is tick off," she sighs. "If it attacks we might become cornered ," she looks in the direction of the other two rooms and the dead end.

OOC:Could you restate what the doors were made of?

Watching the black mass with evident disgust, Snorri says gruffly, "Any tales told by our people that I have heard describe these foul things as difficult to kill. As much as I'd love to see what's in the box, I'm gonna have to say we'll be better off if we just move on. These things eat metal and flesh, the two things we least want to part with."

"A quick egress is in order," Heathcliffe springs to his heels and, from his northward watch, edges towards the southward door.

"Yes, I concur with the general assessment and let's leave this first room to the foolishly brave," Thraim says to his companions.

Semina inches her way closer to the door and uses her staff to shut it quietly, hoping to not aggravate the goo any further.  She keeps her distance as it shuts, making herself ready to run in case something pushes back.

"Let's move out," she remarks with a whisper.

Snorri prepares to leap to his comrades' defense if needed, and provide cover for the retreat of the group.

Naren readies (But does not yet cast) Fireball.

Sander, realizing his mace would be rather useless against such a foe, prepares to cast "cause light wounds" and moves back towards the door.

All of Snorri's warnings sound off alarms inside Semina's head.  She listens intensively for the door latch as she continues to back away from the room.  She begins to pull back her staff and walk backwards toward door leading to the first hallway.

"I take it we are finished with this wing," she speaks softly as she keeps her back to her companions.

"Yes, let's see what other 'hospitality' waits for us in this chaos-tainted mansion," Thraim says dryly as he motions for Semina to lead forward.

Semina looks over at Thraim as she maintains backing up.  "I say we continue down the other hallway to the next set of doors," she pauses "but these other rooms are too tempting to check for the Prince we seek."

Semina looks to everyone for advice.  "Should we sneak past the first door, and check quickly?"  Semina places her staff upon her pack again.  "I will voluntary, if other wish to stay and alert me to any activity."

"Snorri," Semina looks to the other dwarf, " you seem to know a bit about these creatures, will they attack?"

OOC: Group decision.  Everyone seems to be backing away from the door, but what of the other 2 rooms? If your not backing away from the door, then where is your position?

OOC:  Let's check out the other rooms.  Now that we've closed the door on this room, I'm not really worried about it coming out of the room to attack us.

Semina places her nap sack down near the hallway entrance.  She arms herself only with her hand axe and begins to walk quietly up to the next room.  She leaves her companions near the entrace , incase the alarm needs to be raised.  

"Trust me," she turns to Thraim before leaving"if there is any anything valuble, I'll bring it back for the sharing ."

Semina reaches the second door, and listens quickly before she opens.

Listen Roll. (1d6=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2051680/)

Heathcliffe looks back just as he is about to slip past the southward doorway. Considering his companions' motives for only a second, he speaks softly, "Were we not going? I fear that each of these rooms have some element of danger and it's best we keep our feline curiousity to a minimum unless we can verify it a route of escape."

You don't hear anything behind the second door, and upon pulling it open you realize that this room appears to have been quarters for the Amber family servants. The room is now completely filled with a mass of giant spider webs. Three giant spiders sit in the webs.

Roll for initiative

1d20=16 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2052295/)

Quote from: StormBringer;299437Roll for initiative

Initiative Roll = 4 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2052341/) :)

Initiative (1d6=5) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2052370/)

(Wait...It's 1d6? 1d6=3 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2052378/))

Quote from: Narf the Mouse;299470(Wait...It's 1d6? 1d6=3 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2052378/))

OOC:  Yeah, it's all good. :)  We're using OSRIC 2.0 (http://www.knights-n-knaves.com/osric/download.html) to power this game and it uses a d6 for initiative.

Initiative = 5 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2052656/)

Quote from: Drohem;299476OOC:  Yeah, it's all good. :)  We're using OSRIC 2.0 (http://www.knights-n-knaves.com/osric/download.html) to power this game and it uses a d6 for initiative.

They also explained initiative much better than the original DMG.  :)

Semina hears nothing on the other side of the door,  so she quickly opens it to find some more gruesome creatures waiting for her.  She back away from the door with a panicked look crossing her face.  She glances over at her companions,"We've got company, and they have 8 legs."  She brings up her hand axe in a defensive position.

Int. Roll (1d6=2) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2052801/)

OOC: I consider all rooms to have an element of danger.  Here comes the fun!

Thraim groans audibly and says in a defeated tone, "spiders?  I hate spiders."

================================================

Quote from: Venosha;299519OOC: I consider all rooms to have an element of danger.  Here comes the fun!

OOC:  Well, it *is* Castle Amber after all! :D[/I]

Snorri grunts in response, "Eh, Just something else to squash." He sets his shield and prepares to let with his hammer.

His first attack, assuming he will not immediately be in melee, will be to throw his hammer at the closest spider, then ready it for melee when it returns.

Spider #1 → 2
   Spider #2 → 5
   Spider #3 → 6

The order is:

Spider #1 - Semina
Naren
Thraim
Snorri - Heathcliffe - Spider #2
Spider #3

After this, we will probably go with a d10 for init, with Dex mods

The spiders are still in the room, so Semina is the only one with a clear shot on them at the moment.

Semina tightens her grip on her axe and makes a dash for her bag she left at the hallway door, while  constantly looking back to see when the creature will appear.

"One is on the move, and could be on me at any moment!" Semina alerts the party.

OOC:Going to try to run as quickly as possible for my bow.

Meanwhile, Naren is going through some preparations. 'Rag...flash of oil...Torch...Instant explosion...'

What do I roll?

It will take you a round to dig that stuff out, in the meantime, the spider will complete its attack.

(SB: Yeah, but it's a good chance of doing damage - And there's not much else I could do without exposing myself to melee)

One of the huge spiders is visible just inside the doorway, making intricate gestures with some disturbingly hand-like appendages

Snorri: Saving throw vs Spells

Assumiing this is a spell, save = 15 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2057322/), otherwise it's 10.

Snorri feels a tingle in the back of his mind, but is able to shake it off after a moment.

Semina is near the hallway door, Naren is digging through his pack, Thraim is up.

Thraim raises his crossbow, aims, and quickly fires a bolt at the monstrous spider's bulky body.  Acting on its own, his magical crossbow cocks itself as Thraim is reaching for a second bolt.  Several moments after his first bolt flies, Thraim's second bolt is seeking its arachnid target.

==========================================================

OOC:

Thraim has a light crossbow of speed, so he fires at the end of the round as well.

Thraim's first shot hit AC -5 for 5 damage (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2057822/).
Thraim's second shot hit AC 5 for 8 damage.

The bolt sticks solidly into the spider's abdomen, as it recoils in pain.

I'll do the second set of damage at the end of the round

Semina reaches her pack she left by the hallway door, and tries to catch her breath from the sprint.  She quickly shoves her axe into her belt, and grabs her bow and a quiver of arrows.

OOC: Semina will try to shoot some arrows off if she get the chance next round.  Otherwise she will do her best to stay out of their fang reach.

Heathcliffe (on his initiative) will quickly draw out his sling and attempt to smote one of the creatures with a bullet.

Attacking w/ Sling Bullet (1d20+8=10, 1d4+6=9) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2058750/) - The first is the attack, the second is the damage roll.

Snorri hurls (or strike with it if he is engaged before he can act) his hammer at the first spider he sees, then sets himself to catch the hammer on it's return, positioning his shield to catch the brunt of any incoming attacks.

Hits AC -4 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2058838/), damage = 18 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2058840/) (damage X2 when thrown)

Quote from: DeadUematsu;300114Heathcliffe (on his initiative) will quickly draw out his sling and attempt to smote one of the creatures with a bullet.

The bullet whistles through the air, hits the ceiling right above the spider's abdomen and knocks some chips of stone loose as it ricochets off into a corner

Quote from: Sigmund;300116Snorri hurls his hammer at the first spider he sees, then sets himself to catch the hammer on it's return, positioning his shield to catch the brunt of any incoming attacks.

The hammer strikes true with a satisfying crunch, and the spider falls to the ground with folded legs.  Its ruined head sprays ichor all over the hammer, which spatters your shield and helm as it lands solidly back in your hand.

Snorri looks around quickly for another target.

You hear voices through the door into the main hallway at your backs, "Who is in there?  Open this door! What is going on and what is all that noise?".  The voices sound quite insistent, and you might guess there are three or four people out there.

Spider #1 is down, so back to Semina

"We've got more company," Semina nods at the door behind her.  She positions herself against the left wall, and awaits for either the spiders or the new voices to present themselves.  

OOC: I thought it was Spider # 2 and 3's move?  I am a little lost.  If the spider's come out of the room, please follow thru with my attack below. Otherwise I am waiting for who comes first. If I am even allowed to do that?

Attack on spider. (1d20+1=21) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2066000/)
Damage on Spider. (1d4+3=7) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2066001/)

Thraim lets loose another bolt, loads another bolt, and fires again at another spider.

==================================================

OOC:
Thraim is attacking spider #2.
Thraim's first attack hit AC 8 for 7 damage (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2066044/).  Thraim's second attack, at end of round, hit AC 4 for 8 damage.

Ok, before the next round of attacks, is everyone down by the main hallway door?  I think Semina was still fairly close to the spider room standing by the opposite wall, so she would have a shot at one of the spiders.  Is everyone else clustered further down the hallway?

Thraim stayed with Semina about ten feet behind her, covering her with his crossbow.

Snorri stayed with Thraim, covering him and ready to leap to Semina's defence.

Semina brings up the crossbow just in time to see a spider scurrying further back into the gloom.  Releasing the catch on the crossbow, the quarrel whistles into the room, and hits the spider solidly in the thorax, eliciting a screech of pain.

Thraim fires his bolt at the same spider, which speeds right past its head, and through the webbing to bury itself in the wall.

Naren is also back, but in range to throw his flaming concoction.

Snorri eyes the door, ready to defend against any aggressors that might come through.

The voices are louder now, quite insistent that someone open the door, or there will be hell to pay.  It sounds like someone might be pounding on the door as well.

Semina quickly reloads her crossbow, directing it at the spider's layer.  She tries to focus on the immediate danger, while another lingers outside the hallway.  She glances at Snorri as he readies his weapon, since the voices seem more agitated.

"Naren," she pleads with the magic user. "Will that concoction of yours be ready soon?" she motions to the spider room with her head.  

OOC: Just a note that I am not trying to drive anyone's character, just adding to the ambiance.  SB: Are we going in the original order still?  Semina, Naren, Thraim, Snorri, Heathcliffe, S2, and S3?  Just trying to make sure I am all caught up.

(...How soon until he is done?)

It only took the round to get your stuff ready, so you can toss it in there this round.

"Almost done," Naren says, preparing to burn spiders. (What do I roll?)

Are you trying to hit the spider or just lob it in the room?

(Can I get a position check?)

Everyone is generally piled up in one area a little ways outside the door, so you can see the one spider, but you don't know where the other one is.

(I apologize for the delay; I was getting my desktop computer working - Was missing a couple of working parts)

Naren calls "Clear!", waits a moment and then throws the volitile concoction.

1d20=15, 1d6=1, 1d6=2, 1d6=3 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2068679/)
(A d20 and some d6's, just in case you need them)

The flask is lobbed into the room, impacting on a wall and lighting up a good portion of the webbing on the far side.  The giant spider screams as the flames and heat singe its rear legs.

Semina closes her eyes for a moment while the spider shrieks in pain.  She brings up her cross bow, aiming at the door way in case the spider scrambles out from the flames.  "Snorri," she tries to catch the dwarfs attention.  "Are the others making their way through the hallway door."

OOC: Who's turn?  Anything about the others outside the hallway?

Ok, Semina and Naren are done for this round, the remaining order is:

Thraim
Snorri - Heathcliffe - Spider #2
Spider #3

OOC:  I think that I already rolled for this round, but here's another set of rolls (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2074533/) if needed.  Thraim is using his crossbow of speed (THAC0 13).

Yeah, I think we jumped your turn, but that is fine.  You will get another shot at the end of the round using your previous rolls.

Snorri - Heathcliffe - Spider #2
Spider #3

So is its Snorri's turn then?  Looks like Heathcliffe isn't moving.

Snorri is staying put with an eye on the door being pounded upon, but if he spots a spider he will fling his hammer at it.

Snorri eyes the door with a snarl, "They'll stay out there if they know what's good for 'em"

I think everyone was kind of piled up, so you have a shot on the one spider.

Spying a spider, Snorri flings his hammer and then sets himself for it's return.

Hits -10 AC (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2080001/), 13 damage (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2080008/)

You need to start rolling your dice on the table, where everyone can see them.  :)

The spider is struck squarely on the abdomen, staving in part of it's hairy carapace, and almost knocking it loose from the webbing.  It scrambles a bit to get its footing back and screeches in pain.

Quote from: StormBringer;303771You need to start rolling your dice on the table, where everyone can see them.  :)

I don't know what this means. I also can't access the instructions for the dice roller from the OOC thread without making an account with that site, apparently, and I really don't feel like doing that. If you could copy/paste them to me either in the OOC thread or privately I'd appreciate it.

Quote from: Sigmund;303840I don't know what this means.

Just goofing around with you, rolling the hit on AC-10.  :)

QuoteI also can't access the instructions for the dice roller from the OOC thread without making an account with that site, apparently, and I really don't feel like doing that. If you could copy/paste them to me either in the OOC thread or privately I'd appreciate it.

[/I]Weird, I was pretty sure I wasn't signed in when I was reading them the first time.  Let me see what I can do.

EDIT:  This post has the basics:  http://www.therpgsite.com/showpost.php?p=258917&postcount=5

Quote from: StormBringer;303844
Just goofing around with you, rolling the hit on AC-10.  :)

Oh, lol, I was frickin confused there for awhile... like, what table top?

Quote[/I]Weird, I was pretty sure I wasn't signed in when I was reading them the first time.  Let me see what I can do.

EDIT:  This post has the basics:  http://www.therpgsite.com/showpost.php?p=258917&postcount=5

Ya know, I thought I had seen it before too, but when I clicked the link to look for what table top (lol, fucker :D ) you were talking about it just showed a login screen.

Sorry.  :)

Clutching its abdomen, the spider retreats into the deeper recesses of the room, barely hanging onto the webbing.

Semina watches the creature screech in pain, and lines up for another shot at the wounded spider.  Her bow is aimed at the dying vermin, "I'll try to take it out, but I can't see that last spider!" she yells.  "Thraim," she take a deep breath.  "I'm betting it will surprise us with an attack," she remarks with a wince in her voice

OOC: Will spider #3 be moving, or is it my turn?

Thraim gets last attack in the round because of his crossbow, then it is your turn.

From the previous attack rolls:

Struggling to stay steady as it retreats into the room, the spider loses its footing and swings out while trying to regain a foothold.  Thraim brings his crossbow up in a blur and looses a bolt, which sinks into the creature's thorax, and it thrashes around, tearing some webbing down with it, then lies still with its legs curled up.

"Well, then - Let's ambush the last spider ourselves", Naren comments with a slight grin, as he prepares another 'Fireball Special'.

"What can we use to provoke it?" Semina comments as she skirts around to the other side of the door.  She is looking to draw out the spider but keeping distance enough to run if the spider attacks her.  "Be ready," she shouts.  "I'll be the bait." Drawing up her crossbow in fire position.


OOC: I edited the previous post because I didn't notice the spider #2 was down.  Got confused for a moment, and I talked with SB and advised I could do a retake on this post.  Please let me know if you guys have a problem with it.  Thanks

As Thraim is loading a new bolt onto his crossbow, he nods towards the door where the shouting is coming from and says, "let's hurry and get this last spider before our new friends arrive.  Naren, burn their webbings!"

============================================

OOC: No problem. :)

Snorri turns his attention to the door being pounded on and says, "I'll make sure our friends stay out of the way until the vermin can be dealt with if need be."

Semina starts to work her way around to the other side of the doorway when a flash of light appears at her location.

Semina will need to make a saving throw vs Spells

As Snorri turns to the door to prepare a defense against the mob, the pause in your immediate combat allows you the chance to notice there are no voices behind the door any longer.

OOC:  Too bad for Semina...guys help!

Save throw. (1d20=1) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2085228/)

Naren is idly humming 'The Idiots Go Marching Two By Two, Hurrah' under his breath while he prepares an explosive concotion, when he notices a flash of light at Semina's location.

With no idea what's going wrong, he lets his fingers adjust themselves to 'Fireball ready' - Which does slow him down a bit, as he continues to make a 'Rogue's Fireball'.

(The plan is, if an enemy appears nearby that's not a spider - Throw the oil at it, then fling a fireball after, far enough away to hit whatever-it-is and not the party

Naren: The Sorting Hat says 'SLYTHERIN!'

Semina: The Sorting Hat says 'HUFFLEPUFF!'

Snorri: The Sorting Hat says 'GRYFFINDOR!')

The bright flash of light appears at Semina's location; in fact, it seems to be centered directly on her eyes.  Continuing from momentum and instinct, she makes it past the door, but everything beyond that is a featureless sheet of white.

Semina drops to the ground, and feels around  with her left hand for some type of bearing.  Confused as to what just happened, she hold her bow close to her chest as tries to adjust her sight.  'Damn it' she scowls to herself.

"Thraim," she yells.  "I've been blinded!" she says with urgency in her voice.  "Someone will need to be my eyes," she remarks with haste.  


OOC: Narf.  I am curious to the Harry Potter reference.  What is your meaning behind it?

(@Venosha: No hidden meanings there. Just a bit of musing)

"Moradin's beard!"  Thraim exclaims upon hearing Semina's cry.

Thraim looks over at Naren and says, "Naren, take care of Semina while Snorri and I finish off this last spider."

"Cover me and let's finish this," Thraim says to Snorri as he puts his crossbow away and draws his longsword.

With his longsword in hand, Thraim enters the spider's lair.

==========================================================

OOC:  Thraim is going to move into the room to confront the spider.

Getting through the room will be treacherous.  Spider webs fill almost every space, and they are appropriately sized for the arachnids that occupy the room.

Through the gloom, you can vaguely make the outlines of the giant spider near the back wall.  It moves easily around the webs, and appears to be prepared for your assault.

After seeing the large spider waiting in the webs, Thraim says, "um, scratch that Naren.  We really need a fireball right about now."

Snorri moves to stand over Semina and defend her while eying the room.

(I'm still not sure what happened with Semina - Could I get an update? Can't do anything if I don't know what's going on, after all)

Semina is blinded at the moment, Snorri is standing over her to provide protection from attacks.

(Outside the door?)

Burnination in hand, Naren heads towards Semina to see exactly what has showed up now, and how much killing it needs.

OOC: Yes, Semina is outside the door on the left side. Thraim was the only one who was entering the room, and backed away when he saw all the spider webbing he couldn't get around.

Naren can just discern the outline of the last spider in the back of the room, moving among the webbing.  It is about 20' away, and the webs will make for a tricky shot.

Naren looks at the spider, looks at the webs and then looks at his makeshift 'fireball'...

...Hmm...

...And then he throws the flaming bottle into the webbing and starts tossing rocks until it smashes.

Some dice rolls for you: 1d20=4, 1d20=5, 1d20=14, 1d6=1, 1d6=4, 1d6=2 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2093371/)

Semina listens intently as noise fills the air in front of her.  She keeps rubbing her eyes to shake the blindness, and tries to flush them with tears.  "What's going on?," she comments while fear reveals some of her weakness.  

OOC: How long does the blindness affect me?

Snorri mutters quietly, "The odd little wizard threw his flaming bottle into the webbing, and is now throwing rocks at it."

Dryly: "I only have one Fireball. Do you want me to waste it while we're winning, or shall I continue to try to set the webs aflame, which will result in the spider getting burnt?"

Snorri chuckles and says, "No, no... I am simply describing what you're doing to Semina here."

"Ok, odd little person."

Snorri growls, "Just burn the cursed spiders and worry about your bruised ego later, or are they too much for ya?"

"Can't stand the heat..." Naren smirks.

Snorri yells, "We'll worry about what heat I can stand later, it's the blasted spider that's the danger here, in case you've forgotten. Do I have to do it for ya?"

Snorri turns and wings his hammer at the bottle (to hit: 18 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2094016/), damage: 7 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2094018/)).

(Gross miscommunication. The foundation of all lasting arguments)

Quote from: Narf the Mouse;305369(Gross miscommunication. The foundation of all lasting arguments)

Lol, indeed. I'm not gonna post any IC stuff until the others have a chance to catch up :)

(Yeah, plus I think we've run down our six seconds)

"Troll shit!"  Thraim exclaims in exasperation as he side steps away from the doorway into the spider room, "Naren, throw the darn incendiary into the webbings so that Snorri and I can go in and kill that abdominal spider.  After that, watch over Semina and alert us if any one is coming up our backsides."

Looking over at Snorri, Thraim says, "let's do some exterminating cousin, just like children in the tunnels.  What say you?"

Quote from: Venosha;305299OOC: How long does the blindness affect me?

You won't know, but one of the spellcasters may have an idea.

Naren tries to analyse the blindness spell on Semina: 1d20=14 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2095802/)

(d20 roll - Do I add anything?)

Before I respond to Thraim I need to know what if any effect my throwing my hammer at the bottle had, or if Naren had broken it already.

Quote from: Narf the Mouse;305558Naren tries to analyse the blindness spell on Semina

Judging by the environment when the spell took effect, you would guess it is some sort of light spell, although which variety is just a matter of time.  Usually a standard light spell lasts for an hour or two.  On the other hand, a continual light spell lasts as long as the name suggests.  Unraveling the magic isn't impossible, but not guaranteed, either.

Quote from: Sigmund;305564Before I respond to Thraim I need to know what if any effect my throwing my hammer at the bottle had, or if Naren had broken it already.

Sorry about that, just catching up.

The bottle landed quite wide of its mark, and got snagged in some webbing.  A few pebbles did little to trigger it, but Snorri's hammer again finds its mark.  Striking the bottle squarely, it shatters and spills the contents over a small patch of webbing and proceeds to burn that part away with a hiss and crackle.

(Where would my character sheet be? Kind of lost track of it...)

Quote from: StormBringer;305580Sorry about that, just catching up.

The bottle landed quite wide of its mark, and got snagged in some webbing.  A few pebbles did little to trigger it, but Snorri's hammer again finds its mark.  Striking the bottle squarely, it shatters and spills the contents over a small patch of webbing and proceeds to burn that part away with a hiss and crackle.

NP, just wanted to let everyone know why I wasn't responding yet :)

After catching his returning hammer, Snorri glances at Thraim and says, "Aye, somebody needs to clean up this dump." and steps warily into the room.

Shrugging at the turn of events, Thraim follows Snorri into the spider's lair.

"...Flame-resistant spider webs. What'll they think up next?"

Snorri looks about intently until he locates the spider, keeping his shield in front of him and his hammer ready to strike, "You see the cursed thing?"

The spider shifts a bit in the remaining webbing, looking for a place to mount an attack.  There is a space in the middle of the room that has been cleared of webs, and is somewhat safer to move around in, just about ten feet in diameter.

OOC:  New Intiatitve check?

(How do you stop a spell in 2e?)

Quote from: Drohem;305916OOC:  New Intiatitve check?

Nah, we can keep the same order.

Thraim moves to the clear area and attacks the spider with his longsword.

======================================================

OOC:  Longsword attack hit AC 0 for 11 damage (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2098969/).

Snorri moves up to flank Thraim and attempts to crush the spider.

Hit:ac 7 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2099789/), Damage: not gonna bother

Peering into the darkness, Thraim clears out a bit more space with his long sword.  From the side, the spider darts out for an attack, but Thraim brings up his blade and slashes at the beast.  Ichor spills from the deep gash in its side, as it scrambles back into Snorri's melee range.  His hammer flashes out, striking the creature as it tries to escape...

AC 7 should hit it, go ahead and roll damage with the attacks anyway unless the roll indicates you hit worse than AC10

Quote from: StormBringer;306121AC 7 should hit it, go ahead and roll damage with the attacks anyway unless the roll indicates you hit worse than AC10

Ok.

Damage: 10 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2100040/)

...and crushes the creature, whereupon it falls to the ground with its legs curled up, twitching for a few moments before becoming utterly still.

Snorri shakes any ichor off his hammer and then quickly visually searches the webbing to make sure the danger is past.

While Snorri scans the room for any movement, Thraim is listening for anymore shouts or noise, other than Semina and Naren, from beyond the hallway outside.

Semina extends her head in the direction of the room and listens as Thraim, and Snorri fight off the last spider.  The excitement seems to have died down.  Semina moves her left hand around to find Naren's position.  "Will you help me up Naren," Semina pleads.  "Place me over by the wall, and hand me a water skin please," she remarks.  'Maybe some cool water will help these eyes,' she thinks to herself.  "Naren," she whispers "has anything come wandering out of the first room?"

Naren does as requested. "Not so far as I can see."

(GM, how does counterspelling work in 2e?)

Quote from: Narf the Mouse;306400(GM, how does counterspelling work in 2e?)

We aren't using the 2e rules.  Counterspelling works when the spell is still being cast, not after.

(Oh, right, 1e rules. What's up with 'Unraveling the magic isn't impossible, but not guaranteed, either.', then? Do you mean the 'dispell magic' spell?)

"It seems to be a Light spell of some sort. It should wear off in an hour or two. Alternately, if I'm given time, I could memorize and cast a dispelling spell."

Thraim comes walking out of the spider room and into the hallway where the rest of the party is located.

Looking up and down the corridor, Thraim says, "Who or what cast the spell upon Semina's eyes?  Did anyone see it or hear it?  Has anyone checked the door where the voices were coming from?"

"All I saw was a flash of light on her face."

The hallway is now quiet as it was before the chaos of battle.  Semina is still unable to see, the dwarves have some webbing still clinging to them, and the room where the spiders lived is silent and dim.

Ignoring the webbing, Snorri stalks back out of the room and listens for further disturbance while keeping shield and hammer at the ready.

Semina keeps blinking her eyes to no avail.  'Patience isn't a virtue under these circumstances,' she thinks to herself.  "What is our next move?" she directs her question to everyone.  "There is still a door at the far end, or should we make a break for the hallway?"  

Leaning against the wall, Semina lets the frustration spewing from her pores.  "Two out of three doors were dangerous," she comments with anger in her voice.  "Those aren't great odds."  Now pointing to her eyes, "My blindness will hinder the group if we travel to far," she pauses "so I can listen for others if the third door is your decision."

Looking at the group, Thraim says, "Should we wait to see if the blindness is temporary, or continue onward?"

"I'd say we should move back to the entrance hall and wait out Semina's blindness there, as we can be confident there as to which direction danger will come from, as well as keep an eye out for other lost souls such as ourselves. Semina's blindness puts us in a bad situation, but we can't leave her to fend fer herself in such a situation, so we need a defensible position until we can either cure her affliction or compensate for it." Snorri says while moving over to the door upon which the banging was heard recently.

Edit: Trying out the goofy spelling to attempt to put some "voice" into Snorri's statements, but might give it up as a pain in the ass. Just attempting to portray him as gruff but kind-hearted, and smarter than he looks :)

2nd Edit: Removing the goofy spelling because i dont like it :)

Thraim smiles inside at the good Dwarven wisdom that Snorri just suggested, but only says, "What do you think Semina, Naren?"

Semina smiles at Snorri's comments, "Thank you master dwarf," she bows in the direction of his voice.  "I will go where ever you lead me," Semina says as she rubs her forehead with her hand.  "I only fear they are slient, awaiting our next move," she remarks with a frown.  "Since we don't know who cast the spell upon me, then we shouldn't consider it safe here as well."

OOC: At first I thought Sigmund was having trouble with his key board, then reading further...I had to laugh.  I like the gruff touch though!

"If we can be safe enough there, I may be able to do something about your blindness."

Thraim nods at Naren words and says, "You guide Semina in the middle, Snorri on point, and I'll bring up the rear.  We head back to the foyer and attend to Semina.  Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Snorri waits for the group to get set, then heads back towards the entrance hall cautiously.

Semina nods in agreement with the others and grabs hold of Naren's shoulder.  "I am ready Naren," she tightens her grasp.

Naren follows Snorri, carefully leading Semina.

(Hmm...'Snorri'...The eight dwarf? :D )

"We need to have a plan" Naren says, suddenly. "Do we investigate in-depth or shallow? Do we turn corners to the left? What is the objective of each search? To find resources? Which resources, exactly? To clear out monsters? To find answers to questions?"

"We cannot afford to ramble around."

Thraim looks at Naren quizzically, raising an eyebrow, and says, "Naren, do you want to stay as a 'guest' of the Ambers?  Personally, I am looking for an exit and someone to hold accountable for our abduction... and Semina's blindness."

"That would be the ultimate goal" Naren says dryly "But somehow I don't think it's going to be that easy."

Thraim smiles and chuckles in beard, "indeed, my friend, indeed.  Lead on Snorri.  Let us attend to Semina quickly."

Ok, what is everyone up to?

(Naren is memorizing Dispell Magic - And...Hmm...Not sure I ever got the chance to memorize Fireball, but I certainly tried. So that too.

And then, once he's memorized Dispell Magic, he'll cast it on the Light spell. And if that doesn't work, he'll repeat)

Just so ya'all know, I just got home from having surgery, so if ya don't hear from me it's due to pain meds and convalescing. I had knee surgery, nothing serious, just painful.

Well, good luck with the pain.

OOC:  I am being lead out into the hallway by Naren.  Other then that I am not making decisions until my sight is back.

Oh yeah, Naren will also keep Semina informed. About as well as the emotionally-damaged twit can manage, anyway. (Naren, not Semina)

Snorri, staying alert and keeping his shield and hammer at the ready, leads the group back to the entrance hall at a slow and steady pace.

There are no noises coming from the door to the main hallway.

At a quick pace, we return to the foyer.  Once there, Naren will see if he can help remove Semina's blindness.

Semina feels the air pressure change as they re-enter the foyer.  She leans over to Naren, "It to quite out here," she whispers in his ear.  "Nothing lurking around?" she grasp his shoulder a little tighter.  

She awaits his response as he leads her on.  'I must use my inner strength to heighten my other senses as though I'm meditating,' she comments to herself.

"Let's find a wall to secure ourselves while you try to heal me," she speaks softly once more.

"Nothing seen or heard" Naren replies quietly.

Naren speaks only loud enough for the group to hear "Semina has suggested and I agrree we should find a wall to put our backs against."

The front hallway is silent as you make your way across to the double doors, and as far as you can see down, there is no activity, either.  In fact, there is virtually no change at all from when you were last in here.

The foyer still stands open to the outside, with the infernal fog roiling just outside the door.  You find it exactly as you left it, and still no sign of your missing comrades.

Snorri positions himself just inside the door leading out of the foyer and into the mansion.

Naren will need to study to re-memorize a new spell, but no different than any other day.  While you don't seem to recall enough hours to fill an entire day, you all certainly feel like at least a day has passed.  By your best estimates, it can't be more than about mid-afternoon, however.

The foyer only has the one set of doors from the mansion, enhancing the ability to defend the room, but the mist from the outside makes for a deadly barrier, should the tide of battle turn against you.

Thraim and Snorri will take turns watching the entrance to the mansion, while the other takes care of the camp stuff like making food and seeing to Semina's needs while Naren studies his arcane tombs searching for an answer.

Semina glides her fingers along a wall as she feels as though the group has wandered through another set of doors.  "Where are we?" she remarks to no one in particular.  "Did we just past through another doorway?"  Leaning on Naren as he guides her along, Semina tries to listen to the castle for any clues as to where they might be.  

"Thraim," she tilts her head backwards.  "It seems that time has passed slowly since our abduction," she pauses.  "My stomach talks of hunger, and I could use a rest."

OOC:Sorry..I got confused.  I didn't see we were headed back to the foyer, I thought we were head outside the grand hall, but then I re-read the posts. Aren't we back tracking?  Also those individuals that were looking for us??  Won't they pose a threat if they find us, and with me being blind we're actually down a man.  Just throwing ideas out is all, not blaming or trying to take the lead.

Edit: Sorry Drohem, I didn't see you posted before me.

"We're back-tracking to the entrance hall, which we've just entered" Naren paused "Sorry, I'm not good at describing things."

Semina feels for another wall to place herself against.  "Naren," she taps him on the shoulder, "will you help me lower myself, so I may rest a bit."  As she begins to find a temporary resting spot, Semina swings her backpack around so she can access her rations and water skin.  

"How long will the spell take to memorize, Naren?" she remarks to her companion.  'Meditation sounds good about now.'

"Certainy." Naren assists Semina to a sitting position.

"It'll take about (OOC: Insert time here). Sorry, that's the best I can do."

(OOC: Something like 15 minutes a spell, I think?)

You already have fireball memorized as your third level spell, so you would need a full night's rest to memorize another spell in that slot.  Alternately, you could cast dispel magic directly out of your book; that would be treated like a scroll, so it would be erased from your book, and would need to be replaced at some point.  It would also not be available for memorization until you did so.

(My list of memorized spells seems to have gotten mixed up - What have I got?)

Always the waiting with mages, Thraim had been here before many times.  Even though he was concerned by this mysterious blinding attack on Semina, he didn't let it show to the others; fear could demoralize a group to the point of irrational actions.  So he lost himself in the routine of a two man watch with Snorri.  

Every once in while, Thraim would bring out his whiskey flask and pass it to Snorri for a nip, just enough to keep him sharp and frosty.  He would take a nip and carefully put it back into his pouch.  He might have to start rationing it soon if this took much longer.  He couldn't believe how calm Semina was about the whole affair, she was truly a student of mastering the mind and body.  

He was sure that his activity to keep his legs and arms coursing with blood, in case they were called to action suddenly, were a distraction to Naren and his arcane studies and Semina's serenity.  However, he had to do it to keep himself right, and so he walked, paced, and did some push-ups and jumping jacks at random intervals.

Snorri, satisfied that no immediate danger is present in the room, sits himself down and, keeping his shield well within reach, pulls a rag from his pack and starts cleaning his hammer carefully, muttering what sounds like a prayer under his breath before saying, "We have done well so far considering the dangers we have faced. Since you have assumed the mantle of leadership kinsdwarf Thraim, would you be adverse to my standing first watch by the door here? It provides a good view of the door outside, and the best chance to hear danger approaching from within, by my thinkin'."

I have decided to abandon the odd speach pattern for the most part because, frankly, it's annoying :)

Semina leans back against the wall, while finishing up her rations and water.  She over hears Snorri's request to take first watch, and sighs heavily since she can not contribute to the parties safety.  'Be damn who ever placed this spell upon me,' she grits her teeth in anger.  "My apologies to the party," Semina bows  her head in dishonor, "since I am unable to take my share of the watch."  

Gathering up her clothes and placing the water skin back in her pack, Semina begins preparations for meditation.  "I will be more reserved once I am healed, as to what possible dangers lie ahead," she remarks before surrendering herself to a  semi state of peace.

Combing his fingers through is beard unconsciously, Thraim chuckles deeply and says, "Sure, go ahead with the first watch Snorri."

Looking over at Semina, Thraim's voice takes on a more compassionate tone as he says, "Semina, no apology is necessary.  We've got your back, as I am sure you will have ours once your sight is restored."

"Aye, I agree kinsdwarf Thraim. Plus, you aren't gettin' off the hook that easily lass. I expect you to keep those ears tuned while you're awake, might be you hear something before the rest of us.", Snorri says while scrubbing a face of his hammer with his rag.

"It is illogical to blame oneself for the actions of an enemy. You are *Not* to blame." Naren says, rather fiercely.

Semina has never been good as displaying her feeling in front of others, except the occasional bout of anger.  She smiles briefly at her companions sound advice, and settles her self into her meditation routine.  

Noting Snorri's comments on her listening abilities, Semina settles into a trance beyond the parties usual noisy activities.  'No chanting Semina,' she tells herself, 'you must clear your mind to keep your body alert.'

OOC: Do I have to roll anything for listening, or can I actively listen while we recover?

If there is anything to be heard, I will let everyone know.  Otherwise, if there is something specific anyone wants to listen for, like listening at a door, there will be a roll involved.

Settling in to rest for the time being, Snorri soon hears his companions breathing deeply as they sleep.  First watch seems to pass more slowly than expected, even for a patient dwarf.  After a while, it becomes apparent that whatever passes for a sun in this place doesn't seem to move.  The daylight has been exactly the same for the past three hours of Snorri's watch, and upon reflection, the exact same since arriving several hours prior to that.

When Snorri feels sleep creeping up behind his eyes and goes to wake Thraim, he begins to feel the hair on tha back of his neck start to stand on end.  The temperature in the foyer seems to be rising rapidly and turns into a sudden blast of heat, as if from the furnaces of your homeland.  This is accompanied by a hissing noise and a soft 'pop' from the hallway outside the foyer.  Immediately, the temperature returns to normal and you can't be sure if it was simply an hallucination brought on by exhaustion or not.

Snorri, now alert, shield and hammer in hand, moves slowly to Thraim's side and nudges the sleeping dwarf with the toe of his boot, saying quietly, "Wake cousin, something is stirring in the next room and it's best if we are alert and ready for it."

A few moments pass in tense silence; the catch on the north door jiggles a bit, then slowly rises without noise.  Once it is at the top and fully released, no more than a second passes before the door itself swings open, revealing a figure in studded leather armour, a shield on one arm, and his hand to the hilt of his sword.  You can clearly see traces of orcish parentage in this one.

Behind this figure, half-way up the hall, you see another individual disentangling themself from a bedroll and standing up to look in your direction.

Thraim opens his eyes to see Snorri standing over him ready for a fight.  Thraim rolls over and, as quietly as possible, picks up his crossbow and loads a bolt.  He stays laying on the ground, coving the door from this position.

In the most authoritative voice he can muster, and hoping it will wake Semina and Naren, Thraim yells, "Identitfy yourselves or suffer!"

Lightwalker

Sanders previously calm (or rather, oblivious) demeanor evaporates as Thraim calls out.

Dropping to one knee the cleric scrambles to find his mace, and once in hand turns to Kagen at the door, replying to the ultimatum with a startled and disjointed "Wait...It's Lightwalker!"

The voice sounds vaguely familiar and orcish features look familiar, but Thraim is still a little uncertain as he was just woken up.

"Sander, Kagan... is that you?"  Thraim says in a questioning tone.

"Aye! It is I, Kagan!"

His hand still on the hilt of his sword, Kagan seems confused, as if he was trying to place the people before him in a memory that keeps escaping him but should have been on the forefront of his mind. His eyes almost plead as he walks closer and asks: "Where in the Nine Hells are we?"

Looking suspicious, but relaxing slightly Snorri moves in front of Semina and stands with his hammer resting on his shoulder, but his shield held up and in front as he listens to the exchange.

Semina's heart almost jumps through her chest as she hears Thraim's booming voice echo through the foyer.  She listens attentively as the dwarf warns the intruders of their demise. Recognizable voices sound off familiar names, but for some reason she felt someone step in front of her.  "Is everything okay, Thraim?" she moves her head to where his voice came from.

His eyes focused now to the light, Thraim recognizes Kagan's and Sander's appearance.  

"By Moradin's Hammer!"  Thraim exclaims, "it is you.  We thought we lost everyone when we transported here."

Remembering Semina's question, he turns to speak in her direction, "yes, everything is alright.  It is Sander and Kagan, they have returned to us!"

Turning back to the two in the hallway he says, "come in and be at ease my friends."

Thraim puts his crossbow down next to his bedroll and stands up.

Deep laughter emerges as he says, "Aye, Kagan, this may indeed be one of the Nine Hells or Layers of the Abyss.  However, what I do know is that we are the 'guests' of the family named Amber.  This is their mansion, and it is dripping with strange magic.  We met one of the Ambers already, John-Louis Amber.  I believe he was quite mad.  We were exploring for an exit when Semina was mysteriously blinded."

Kagan looks at Semina. His stern grey eyes betray his conflicting feelings of both loathing and pity at the mention of her blindness. He pauses for a moment but then dispells his thoughts by looking back at Thraim.

"This John-Louis. You say he is mad, but how friendly is he? Are we just prisoners of his, or do we have his authorization to explore this... castle of his? Did he ask anything from you? From us?"

A look of fierce determination crosses Thraim's face for a moment, and then fades into a more sobering look as he says, "Oh, he was friendly enough, but quite mad.  I had to face one of his magically constructed slaves in a boxing match to satisfy his madness.  Apparently, we have his full permission to explore and do as we wish here.  I used the term 'guests' half-jokingly.  We are prisoners here, trapped by the strange magic that permeates this place.  I do not take kindly to be kidnapped, and somehow, someway, one or more of these Ambers is going to pay for their foolishness against us.  I trust no one here except for those of us in this room."

Snorri relaxes further and whispers to Semina, "I'm gonna sit next to ya lass, been up on watch and getting very tired." To the others he says, "While I am glad to have you both back with us, I have been on watch and am tired and sore. Forgive me if I try to get some sleep, that is if ya don't mind Thraim."

Edit: The bolding dialog thing, is that a pbp standard of some kind? Just curious.

Kagan nods towards Snorri and turns his attention back to Thraim. "Sounds to me like we are here to serve as sources of entertainment for the Amber family. Do you reckon there would be any ulterior motive to their summons and hospitality?"

"So called..." he adds under his breath, to himself.

OOC: well, having some type of convention to separate dialogs from the rest of the posts is indeed something of a convention in pbp games. It makes it easier to know what we can hear and thus, react to (though body expression, looks etc may cound too).

(Given that I still don't have a current update on my spells - The original list having lost some vital information - And given that I've never gotten a reply on the questions I've asked about it - I'm dropping)

Looking over at Snorri Thraim says, "no, go ahead and get some rest my friend.  I'll stand watch now."

Turning back to Kagan and Sander, he smiles, winks, and chuckles as he says, "only a madman would try to guess the intentions and motivations of another madman."

"Do you think you could cure Semina's blindness, either of you?  I know you are skilled in the arts of divine magic,"  Thraim says in all seriousness with a concerned tone of voice.

"I hear that indeed", Sander replies to the madman comment, he's looking significantly more calm now, if no less worried.

"Yes...blindness...injury? Magical trap of some kind? Yes I think can do something about that, I'll make things well as soon as possible." He smiles weakly, then looks around a bit "We still trying to get some rest then?"

"It was a magical attack upon her while we fought a spider and some spiderlings," Thraim says in a weary voice, "yes, get some rest.  I'll stand watch.  Another effect of the warped magic surrounding this place is that day and night blur into perpetual daylight it appears."

Semina lays back against the wall as Snorri makes himself comfortable on her left side.  She listens as Thraim converses with Sander and Kagan about her blindness, and how they might be able to help her.  She doesn't dare wake up Naren, knowing he needs a full night sleep to memorise spells, but hopes the magic user and the clerics can restore her vision.  Semina stretches her back muscles and turns towards her left, knowing she will wake to darkness once more.  

OOC: Did Narf really quit then?

The Half-Orc hesitates for a moment before suggesting: "I will stand watch with you, Thraim, if you do not mind my company. I actually feel quite rested myself."

"Good, four eyes are better than two," Thraim says as he digs into his belt pouch.

He pulls out his whiskey flask and hands it to Kagan with a wink and says, "just a pinch to stay frosty."

Kagan gulps the liquor and hands back the flask to Thraim without a word. It may be that Kagan was smiling a moment ago, but it is hard to judge by the twisted looks of his shameful heritage.

The 'night' passes without incident.  Everyone is certainly free to chat or interact, if they wish.  Otherwise, if everyone is amenable, we can fast forward to getting ready for the day, and start with addressing Semina's blindness the next 'morning'

Sander experiences a troubled sleep, but wakes the next 'morning' early as is his routine. He is both pleased and mildly disturbed to find his anxiety over the sudden translocation has passed.

Not wishing to disturb the others he grooms and relives himself as unobtrusively as possible, before settling down to collect they energy he will need for the day ahead. One step at a time, I have work that needs to be done.

Your rest was somewhat fitful; no nightmares, but disturbing dreams nonetheless.  As everyone wakes up and begins packing up their supplies for another foray into the mansion, the spellcasters who have need prepare their spells for the day.

After preparations are completed, Naren kneels beside Semina and puts his hand over her eyes as he begins to murmur the incantations to unravel the affliction.  Slowly, the magic begins to have its effect, and the enchantment frays at the edges and dissipates.  "As I suspected," notes the magic-user, "a continual light spell.  It would have never run down on its own, drawing power from a permanent connection to the weave of magic energy that permeates the plane."

The blank whiteness fades from Semina's vision, and sight slowly returns.  There are spots, as though having stared into the sun for a number of hours.  Shapes, movement, for the time being that is all she can see, but only time will tell if it clears up fully.

Semina blinks her eyes frantically, while trying to focus on the images that fade in and out of her line of sight.  "All I can see are shapes and movement for now," she states to no one in particular.  "Its almost like I stared at the sun for to long."  Frustrated by her impairment still, Semina tries to focus on the figures around her to see if she can make out Kagan, and Sanders silhouettes.

Thraim watches Naren do his work on Semina, as he has always been fascinated by the mysteries of the Arcane Art.  He lets out a low sigh as Naren says that he has severed the magic which has blinded Semina and that her sight will return fully in time.

"Good work Naren," Thraim says genuinely.

Snorri stands by the door into the rest of the building alert for approaching danger.

Semina would be back in action sooner if someone had a means to clear up her vision...    ;)

Kagan was pondering the words of the mage during this time. "Naren", the half-orc calls as he walks to him, "you say this continual light devilry would have been permanent due to a link to this place's magic? Do you suspect anything else about the magic permeating the mansion? Does it have effects on each and every spell, including yours?"

"Any other side-effects you would have noticed?"

I'll take over for Naren until Narf returns

"As I understand things, when you cast the spell, a connection to the divinity powers it.  Lacking this connection, our version taps into the magic that permeates all planes.  I am not sure how it would work on a plane that is deficient in magic..." Naren trails off for a moment, then continues, "...of course, in some ways, a plane is tied to the divinities present there, so if my spell draws on the magical weave of a plane, perhaps magic users access the divine also... unless..."

Face screwed up in concentration, Naren dives for his pack and begins digging out some books and scanning the pages quickly, drawing a quill and jotting down some notes.  He seems oblivious to the goings on for the moment.

The half-orc frowns. "Our own magic might kill us if we aren't careful enough... and the inhabitants of this place do not first."

Kagan paces back-and-forth. "I do not like the idea of being these people's pawn."

"I am the instrument of the gods. I haven't been summoned by these exiles from beyond the planes. These are no gods. These are the reasons why the gods sent me here: to bring justice to their wretched ways."

Thraim chuckles and says, "oh yes, the ledger will be balanced before we leave this place."

Sander nods appreciatively to Naren before kneeling next to Semina as well; if he had attempted his healing prior to the unraveling of the spell it would have offered little relief.

"This should remove any remaining damage, with the gods' graces upon you." Sander forks his middle and index fingers forming a 'V' and places the two prongs on Semina's brow. "The spell is simple, but the magic is strong," he begins, and after a minute or so a healing impulse moves from the cleric, seeking to unwind any wounds or magic that would cloud her sight.

Semina sit back as Sander helps rid  the spots that plague her vision.  She quietly awaits a sign that her sight is completely restored. 'It is good to have such skilled companions,' she breaths deeply.  She can feel the surge of power flowing from Sander to her eyes.

As the divine power transfers from Sander to Semina, her vision clears immediately:  the spots fade quickly, and Semina finds herself with a full compliment of senses again.

Semina sighs in relief as the spots fade away.  She places her hand upon Sanders shoulder, "Thank you," she whispers with a quick hug.  "Naren," she looks over towards the magic user. "Your help is much appreciated," she bows her head.

Semina jumps to her feet to look over  the familiarity of the foyer and her companions.  With some sleep under her belt and her sight restored, Semina is feeling very frisky.  

"What shall we hunt today," she smiles with an evil grin as she brings out her bow.

"Good question."

"I do not know the ways of this place." Kagan sighs. "What about the castle's denizens? You said the place is the property of the Amber family. But who else lives here? What about free-willed servants we could maybe convince to talk to us at first, and join our rebellion later, if we are to make an escape attempt?"

Thanks to Moradin that her vision is restored!  Thraim thinks to himself as he sees that Semina is healed completely.

"Yes, a hunt will do our spirits good," Thraim says, "perhaps we should try to find our benefactors and give let them know how we feel about their hospitality."

Looking at Kagan Thraim continues, "we were taken by surprise with our meeting with John-Louis Amber and played his little madman game of boxing.  There were magical eyes hovering over seats that watched the boxing match.  So, I assume that there are other mages somewhere in the mansion, or its environs.  We didn't get far after the boxing match, as Semina was blinded during our fight the spider and spiderlings."

Smiling wide Thraim bows at the waist and gestures towards the hallway into the mansion as he says to Semina, "we'll follow your lead."

Semina gives Thraim a sly glance and walks through the double doors back into the first hallway.  She stops at the door on her right, "That is the room where the boxing match took place," she nods to Kagen and Sander.   Semina glares at the door, "Come to think of it, there was another doorway at the opposite end." She turns her glare towards Thraim, "In fact Jean-Louis left with his minions that way."

Semina stands for a moment patting her bow against her leg.  "If we continue on through the next set of doors," she takes a deep breath, "then we will have a hallway to our right, and a door in front of us that leads to the spiders."  Anger begins to rise within Semina's remarks.  Although it is not beyond her control, she does not feel fit to lead her companions into battle.  "Let's decide our direction, so that my anger will not lead us blindly."

OOC: Here is the thread link to the map SB gave us.
http://www.therpgsite.com/showpost.php?p=296322&postcount=487

"I would first check the huge hallway to make sure we've explored all the areas we can reach without walking through doorways or gates of any kind. Let's see where this leads us?"

"Fine by me," Thraim says casually as he holds his crossbow at the rest position in his arms.

Snorri checks his gear and then rests his hammer on his shoulder as he hefts his shield and heads towards the large hallway and growls, "Good to be moving again."

Edit: I will try to remember to bold my dialog, but I will probably forget alot until the idea becomes entrenched, please bear with me. :)

Semina nods her head in agreement and opens the second set of doors leading out into the long hallway. "Who wants to take point," she whispers to the group.  "I'm still feeling a little weary, and will secure the mid-line until I am at full strength."  


OOC: SB: I am not familiar with Castle Amber. Does the castle change around when you re-enter a specific area?

Quote from: Venosha;312258OOC: SB: I am not familiar with Castle Amber. Does the castle change around when you re-enter a specific area?

You won't know until you return.  ;)

The large hallway has remained empty, but still in a luxurious if somewhat decadent state.  Everything looks clean, which is odd, considering you haven't run into any inhabitants that could be considered cleaning staff.

The mansion awaits, where will you go from here?

"I don't suppose it would be too obvious to say I find this place unsettling?" Sander offers with a half smile. He quickly thinks better of his tepid attempt at humor and addresses the matter at hand. "I can take point if there are no objections, just give me a direction."

Semina stands in the hallway troubled by its cleanliness, and points with her bow down the long corridor.  "That direction," she gestures.  "We didn't get pass the door to our left."  Semina lets Sandertake point as she follows up behind him.

"I'll bring up the rear," Thraim says as he loads a bolt into his crossbow.

Snorri moves up beside Sander, "I'll stay up front with ya until we find a hall or door too narrow."

Kagan stays with Semina in mid-line, and follows just a few steps from Sander's and Snorri's backs.

In a merry tone Thraim says, "lead on Snorri and Sander!"

When Sander is ready, Snorri heads out along the center of the large hallway, keeping an eye out for anything moving or threatening.

Work has been a bit hectic lately, sorry I haven't been updating as frequently.  I will get an updated map tonight after I get home.

You carefully make your way down the long corridor, noting the features and doors.  There is an elevated walkway about 70' from the far wall.  The wall is inset with a single door in the center of the east wall, which is where the red carpet runs.

(http://www.citadelofchaos.net/StormBringer/amberMaps/hallway.png)

OOC:  What is the red dot?  Which room was the one with the spider?

The red dot is about where the party is, barring any other input.  The spider room is the second one in the upper left hand corridor.

"So my friends," Thraim says in a low tone, "to the end of the hall, or check the doors on either side?"

"How about checking this door here?" Kagan asks as he walks to the closest door to them (directly to the north).

OOC - What about the two rooms on either side of the spiders? Have these been searched already?

Was that OOC question for me, or were you asking the rest of the party?

OOC question is for everyone and anyone who cares to answer! :D

OOC: I can't remember :)

Semina listens as the party decides where to start their adventure once more.  "May I suggest shielding ones self," she points to her eyes, "if we cross in front of the second door again."  Semina glances towards the north door.  "Can spells linger, or continue to hover about."


OOC: I am responding to the possiblity of opening the 3rd door.

Thraim unconsciously grooms his beard with his fingers as he muses out loud, "well, it might have been a magical trap of sorts.  I suspect this whole place is filled with magical traps of all sorts given the kooky nature of our captors.  Perhaps I should go first and check for any traps.  Cover me, I don't want my behind hanging in the breeze."

Thraim will go up to the third door on the right of the small northern wing, and get his tools of the trade out of his backpack.  He'll check it for traps.

================================================

(OOC:  Thraim's Find Traps roll = 75% (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2161143/).  His chance is 56%.)

There doesn't appear to be any traps on the door or the latch mechanism that you can find.

Thraim tries to put away his thieves' tools as quietly as possible.  Once they are securely away, he gently puts his loaded crossbow on the ground next to him.  

He turns around facing his companions and puts his finger to his lips in the 'shh' gesture.  He then turns and places his ear up against the door and tries to listen for any sounds inside the room.

========================================

(OOC:  Thraim's Hear Noise check = 48% (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2163092/), and his chance is 22%)

Kagan stands behind Thraim just in case he needs some sudden healing.

Snorri watches the back trail, ready to deal with attack from behind while Thraim works.

Semina watches Thraim place his ear against the door.  She stands quietly near the wall with her bow locked and loaded awaiting intruders from any direction.

You hear a faint nibbling of cheese.

:)

Just kidding, it's quiet behind the door.

Thraim picks up his crossbow, stands up, and opens the door with his off hand.

The door opens into a dimly lit, narrow passage.  As your eyes adjust, you realize it is a closet filled with shelves of fresh linen, bath towels, soap and other household items.

Snorri readies his hammer for a throw.

This can't be right, Thraim thinks to himself, what in the Nine Hells cast a Light spell on Semina then?

Just to make sure that this is just a linen closet, Thraim gently taps on all the walls at random locations to determine if there isn't a hidden passage or hollow area behind a facade of a closet.

You are attacked by a DIRE TOWEL!!  :)

The walls and floors are solid, no matter where you tap them.   The shelves are attached firmly to the walls, and there appear to be no catches or levers to release.

The bedclothes are made of the finest linen, pure white, folded neatly, and spotlessly clean.  The towels are naturally coloured, rough spun cotton, and the soaps each have a pleasant fragrance to them.  Near the back, the last stack of towels on the bottom shelf has a deep red member second from the bottom, and in the middle of the floor, there is one towel crumpled into a pile that is absolutely filthy with grime and dirt.

With a perplexed look on his face, Thraim turns to his companions and shrugs his shoulders as he says, "it's a linen closet."

Kagan keeps a perplexed look on his face. He draws his sword in slow motion, more out of a puzzled reflex than any conscious thought on his part.

He steps in the room, looks at the ceiling.

Assuming he doesn't see anything, he gently pokes the towels one by one with his blade.

Semina leans to her left to look inside the door.  She raises her eyebrows at Thraims comments and looks about.  "What's that in the middle of the floor?  Looks out of place."

The towels Kagan shifts around don't appear unusual in any way.  Looking closer, he can see there is no dust on the shelves around the towels, and the towels and bedclothes appear quite new, and to have been freshly washed.

"Indeed it does," Thraim says in response to Semina's question, "it appears to be a recently used towel.  Also, the red towel seems out of place."

Does the dirty towel on the floor appear wet?

Quote from: Benoist;314422Does the dirty towel on the floor appear wet?

There are parts that appear stained or damp, it's hard to tell which in the low lighting.

"This is just ridiculous" Sander states quietly, "can't believe I was jumpy over bunch of towels"


Noting the interest in the discarded rag Sander enters the room, and tries to  the lift the towel by catching a thread or fold with the head of his mace, then displaying it for the rest of the party to see.

"Maybe the shelves are enchanted to keep the linens clean, but no so for the floor, and someone just left this here."

Snorri takes up a position that allows him to watch back the way we came while still able to see into the room and keep an eye out behind us.

"That might very well be Sander," Thraim says casually, "but who knows with this wacky place.  Let's move on down the grand hallway, shall we?"

Kagan lift a finger up, waiting to see if there is any delayed movement, noise or anything triggered by Sander picking up the rag. As nothing seems to happen (?), he nods to Thraim to lead on.

Semina keeps a look out with Snori as her companions finish their investigation.  "Nothing out of place with the red towel as well?" she remarks as the others comment about heading back down the grand hallway.

OOC: Was Sander just picking up the dirty one on the floor?  Didn't really notice if anyone looked over the red one, so I thought I would mention it....probably nothing as well.

So, you are going to leave the filthy rag on the floor where you found it?

Semina:  Did you want to check out the red towel?

QuoteSemina:  Did you want to check out the red towel?[/I]

I am not inside the room.  I just mentioned it to the others to see if they wanted to leave or check it out.  It will be up to the three inside the room.

Thraim will pick up the red towel and examine it.

The red towel is quite plush, and the colour looks much deeper than any other red cloth you can remember seeing.  At first, it appeared to be a couple of towels folded together, but judging by the pile of the fabric, you guess it is actually a single towel, albeit an over-large one.  A very ornate Gothic embroidery nearly hides the monogram, but it looks like the initials 'S' and 'D'.  It could be your eyes playing tricks, however, the decoration and the letters are such that you can almost see several designs hidden in the pattern.

Thraim shrugs his shoulders, tosses the towel on the floor, and says, "it's a finely made monogrammed towel.  Let's move on."

Ok, you are leaving the red towel and the filthy rag on the floor.  Where to next?

Quote from: StormBringer;315073Ok, you are leaving the red towel and the filthy rag on the floor.  Where to next?

OOC:  We'll head out back into the grand hallway to the location of the red dot on the map.  We'll then check out the door on the left, or directly north of the red dot.

Quote from: StormBringer;315073Ok, you are leaving the red towel and the filthy rag on the floor.  Where to next?

OOC: I should have made it clearer, Sander attempted to hook and lift the rag with one of the barbs on his mace.

Quote from: Kord's Boon;315213OOC: I should have made it clearer, Sander attempted to hook and lift the rag with one of the barbs on his mace.

I got that, you looked it over and noticed some stains or possible liquids on the rag.  I figured you put it back down, as there was no further response.

Quote from: Drohem;315079OOC:  We'll head out back into the grand hallway to the location of the red dot on the map.  We'll then check out the door on the left, or directly north of the red dot.

OOC:  Is everyone else cool with this?

OOC: I am good to go.

OOC: Cool with it!

Semina secures her crossbow on her pack, and equips her hand axe in her right hand.  "Let me listen to the door," she moves to the front of the pack.  "With all we've run into, I think it best we take better precautions."  She places her left ear upon a door once more, "Let's be ready."

OOC: Moving the party along.  Semina will listen, and if nothing is heard...lets open this door.

Listen (1d6=3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2178431/)

Snorri rests his hammer  on his shoulder and keeps his shield ready for action as he moves to watch the group's backs until the door is ready to be dealt with.

Kagan is standing beside Semina, against the frame of the door, ready to assist in case of trouble.

Quietly opening the door, you peer into a large ornate bedroom. Paintings adorn the walls, portraits of the family, apparently; the largest hangs above the mantle, facing the bed itself.  It is a young woman wearing a blue dress seated next to a small table, hands folded in her lap clutching a silver key.  There is a large four poster bed in the middle of the room with all the curtains drawn.  A fireplace burns low on the north wall, while the room itself is ordained in shades of blue with silver trim.

"Hello?  Is there anyone here in the room?" Thraim calls from outside the room.

There is a rustling from within the bed, accompanied by a severe creaking of the frame, and a very deep voice, thick from sleep, calls out, "Hello?  Who is there?  Why have you awakened me?"

Snori moves into the doorway, shield up and hammer at the ready.

Semina walks in behind Snori, and stands a bit off to his left side.  "We mean you no harm," she pauses trying to chose her words carefully.  "My name is Semina," I remark softly.  "My companions and I are looking for a way out of the castle, and wondered if you might be able to help?"

There is a rustling of bedsheets behind the curtains, the sound of fabric tearing slightly, and a loud groan from the bed frame.  The sounds of a dressing gown being hastily donned are interrupted by additional fabric rips.  You realize the voice you heard earlier isn't thick from sleep, but is in fact appropriate to the figure that emerges from behind the bed to greet you.

A large ogress has dressed in clothing that is clearly far too small for her frame, and in the process has nearly shredded it to tatters.  She does seem excited to have you in the room, however, and proceeds to curtsey, further damaging the remnants of the dressing gown that is stretched to the limits of the fabric.

"Greetings!  Has been ages since I have been entertaining visitors!  I is Janet D'Amberville, and I is to be offering you some tea." recites the ogress, stumbling over some of the words with a hint of frustration on her face.

She turns to the tea cart next to her, which seems a toy in comparison, and begins to clumsily prepare some very delicate tea cups for use.

As Thraim steps into the room and lowers his crossbow, he says in a courtesy tone, "pleasure to meet you Miss D'Amberville.  Perhaps we can talk over a spot of tea?"

"Certainly, Sir Dwarf, I will begin pouring," Janet starts out, while clattering the tea set around with overlarge hands, breaking one of the cups.  "Merde!  I am still waking up, dear guests, and am clumsy from sleep.  If I may beg your pardon, it will take a moment to prepare things"

She seems intent on getting the refreshments prepared, and the look of concentration on her face occasionally gives way to frustration as saucers and cups are chipped with rough handling from ogre hands.

Semina walks over to the table as the ogre fumbles with the tea and saucers.  She places her hand under one, "Allow me to help you with that," she smiles up at Janet.  "I am Semina," she pauses for a moment, "the one who called out to you."  

Semina watches the ogre groggy demeanor, and steadies the cup as the tea is poured.   "Perhaps you should let me pour, since it was I who awoke you," Semina remarks.  "Please," Semina motions to a chair, "Let me wait upon you for your kindness and understanding."

Snorri takes up a position by the door in his best man-at-arms pose.

Sander enters the room with tempered amusement at the ogre's attempts to serve them.

Either thinking more guard is needed, or simply not wanting to get involved in the diplomacy he stands close to Snorri, and, attempting to speak below the commotion of chattering plates and small talk asks "Assume you've meet other ogres in this fortress then?"

"Nope", but we have been here long enough to learn that nothing is as it seems." Snorri mutters softly.

The ogress steps back from the tea service, surveying the wreckage with a visage that shows her mild anguish and disappointment.  "Thank you, kind mistress," she half-bows to Semina, then murmurs to no one in particular "one would think I be accustom after all this time, yet, some tasks remain out of reach."

You notice a bit of a hitch in her speaking, which is flawless for the most part, but sometimes it sounds like she is unable to correctly form certain parts of a sentence.

Miss D'Amberville, who or what has placed this powerful curse upon your family and mansion?  Can we escape it?  Who is responsible for this madness?"  Thraim inquires of the ogress.

Janet stares off in the distance for a bit, seemingly locked in an internal struggle to remember.  After a moment, she breaks her reverie, shaking her head to clear her mind.

"My brother Stephen would know best, but likely it was our own folly that led us here.  Delving into magical secrets best left unknown, arcane experiments not fit for mortal hands..." she trails off, returning in a gruff voice, "we not know when is time to stopping."

She clears her throat before continuing, "Taking on different forms was my speciality.  After changing into the form you see now, one of our wicked servants stole the items I need to reverse the spell." she again seems lost in her thoughts as her face slackens, "They left so long ago..."  Her attention returns to your party, "and I am sure they took these things with them.  Not that it would matter, I suppose, I feel myself slipping away more and more as the savage I have become takes over my mind.  I don't know how much longer the shreds of Janet will remain, or if sometime the brutal nature of this body will simply shatter all that is left and leave nothing behind of the woman I once was."

Her voice cracks again as she slumps down at the foot of the bed to obvious complaints from the bedframe, "Good.  Tea ready.  We have tea now.  Tea good."  The moment passes with an embarrassed look on Janet's visage.

Kagan cannot help but feel sad for the Ogress. He feels an uncanny connection to the creature, with his own mind trap in a monstrous body, charged with all the prejudices that come with it.

"How did these wicked servants of yours leave the place?"

Semina finishes pouring the last of the tea into the other cups, and sets the pot back on the table.  She looks at the ogre curiously and cautiously as her manners vary with every second she speaks.  Semina makes sure the table is between them, incase the beast rises to full potential.  

"My lady," Semina tries to refocus Janet's attention.  "Where would we be able to find your brother Stephen as well?"

Quote from: lunareclipse;318734Narf!!!

Maybe you would like to take his place?

Quote from: Benoist;318049"How did these wicked servants of yours leave the place?"

"It's hard to tell, it has been so long." she sighs, "some left before the fog shrouded the castle, some went to find Jean-Louis, some tried to find a way out of this accursed place.  None were ever heard from again, of course.  I don't know if any of them would have the presence of mind to take my things with them, or if they would have abandoned all their worldly goods in their quarters in their panicked state..." she trails off again, but you are not sure if she is thinking about the servants, or struggling against the rising savage tendencies.

 

Quote from: Venosha;318099"Where would we be able to find your brother Stephen as well?"

She ponders the thought for a moment, then turns to address Semina.  "He was rarely in this part of the castle, preferring the chapel or the East Wing.  The few times I have seen him here, he was conferring with Richard Cœur de Lion."  She giggles for a moment, "When he isn't around, though, I like to call him 'Richard Tête de Lion'.  He would be furious with me if he heard."  she looks down at her hands folded in her lap, smiles shyly and blushes; somewhat disconcerting on her current visage.  

After a moment, her smile disappears and she appears to be squinting at her hands in deep concentration.

"Would you like us to leave you?"  Thraim says gently, "would you like us to look for the items these servants took?  What were they and what did they look like?"

"Oh, that is so terribly kind of you, Sir Dwarf!" her face shines, " All I would need is the spellbook they had taken, and the pouch of components for this particular spell.  I would be certain that some commoner trying to sell such a thing would be arrested on the spot, so I can't imagine it has left the grounds.  If they didn't hide it in their quarters, they may have tried to put it in the library to cover their villainy.  I have not been in there for so long, as I feared destroying whatever books may have been useful with my clumsiness"

She gazes upon you all with a look of hopefulness that you can only assume hasn't been present for a very long time.

"M'Lady, your kindness has brought dawn to despair," Thraim says, "I will seek the items you need as we search for an exit."

"What direction shall we head first," Semina speaks to no one in particular.  "Let us make haste so she loses no more of herself, or us as well."  Semina straightens herself up, and looks at Thraim for direction.

As they exit the room with ogress Amber, Thraim points at the door opposite them about twenty feet up the grand hallway to the east.

Snorri takes up a position next to the door, but allowing him the ability to keep an eye on the hallway.

Man, getting a monthly magazine put together is hectic!  :)  Sorry about the delay!

Janet is staying behind in her room, as she is fearful of running into the other members of the D'Amberville family.  She is unable to defend herself magically in her current state.

So, if everyone is ready, let's get this moving again!  It seems that recent responses have been in the manner of what people want to do or are planning on doing; let's get that active voice going and adventure boldly!

Semina glides up to the door, and looks at Snorri.  "How about I push it open gently and you take a peak?" she smiles at the dwarf.  She brings out her hand axe and begins to push on the door slowly.

Kagan stands ready near the door frame, as before, to be able to reach (heal) anybody opening the door and behind, if necessary, or stab whoever would force his or her way from the side... ;)

Thraim stands ready in the grand hallway with a bolt loaded in his crossbow.  He is watching the room and hallway from the rear of the group.

Everyone is back at the short hallway leading to the servant's quarters, then?

Quote from: StormBringer;322135Everyone is back at the short hallway leading to the servant's quarters, then?

OOC: If you're looking on the map on page 78 of this thread, we are at the door on the south wall that is 20-feet to the east of the red dot in the middle of the hallway.  As I understand it, the ogress room is the door directly north of the red dot on the northern wall.  So, we came back in the hallway and walked across it to the next door to the east on the south side.

Snorri nods and readies himself.

As the door swings open, you can see a room paneled in polished mahogany. A large fireplace faced with marble is set in the south wall. Whatever furniture was once in this room has been removed, except for an ironbound wooden chest in the southeastern corner. Lying around the fireplace are a dozen or so bedrolls. Near the bedrolls are a dozen humanoids with cat-like faces dressed in leather armor.

Several of them appear to be playing some kind of gambling game with cards, two are lounging near the fire reading, and four of them are standing one to a corner near the bookshelves.  They all turn to look as the door opens into the room.  The guard in the southeast corner appears to be challenging you in a meowling language, punctuated by hisses and a yowl.

"Close the door!"  Thraim yells to Semina at the door.

Semina practically jumps out of her skin from Thraim's yelling.  She quickly  grabs for the door knob and begins to close the door.  "Snori," she looks to the dwarf with a crazed look in her eyes, knowing that she'll be their first target.

Snorri leaps into the doorway, shield at the ready, hammer raised to fling.

Waiting to see if we need init rolls, Snorri will be ready but will not attack until further notice unless attacked himself.

Roll for initiative to see if Semina can close the door fast enough

OOC:  I rolled a '4' for initiative.  Invisible Castle is down currently.

OOC:  Rolled a 3.

OOC: rolled a 3 as well.

Looks like Invisible Castle is back online:

Initiative:     1d6 → [3] = (3) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2230062/)

Oooof.  Looks like homework and getting the latest issue online have distracted me again.  Sorry.

Looks like Semina and Kagan tied with the cat-dude, but they need to get across the room anyway, so you should be able to get the door closed.  Unfortunately, the door opened inward, so Semina will need to roll under Dex on a d20 in order to close the door and engage the catch.

Semina scrambles quickly to close the door.  She watches the cat figure snarl as she does her best to prevent their entry.

OOC: Rolling for latching door. (1d20=11) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2236119/)

OOC: Do you succeed under DEX with your 11, Ven?

OOC:  Sorry...had to find my character sheet.  My DEX is 15.  Looks like the door latch is secure.

OOC: It's alright. I was asking to plot my next course of action. :)

Kagan flattens his back against the wall aside from the door's frame. If anyone forces his way through the door with hostile behavior, raised weapons and such, he will backstab the guy walking through the frame.

You hear the sounds of spitting and hissing coming from behind the closed portal, while the door itself rattles in its frame from the attempts to open it.

"RRREEEOWW What are you doing in the cassssstle, interlopers?  Ssssome servants that haven't essscaped yet?  Releassse the latccch, and we will put in a good word with our Lord Richard, that he be leinient with you!" comes the clearly angry voice from behind the door.  "Don't be foolissshh, you cannot keep uss in here forever!"

At the moment, you have a fairly good grip on the latch, but the attempts from the other side are becoming more insistant.